Pookamon - Quest for Freedom
by LemurKat
Summary: Team Rocket has the Technology to morph Pokemon into humanoids. Follow the adventures of Brooke, an innocent Vaporeon-morph on her quest for freedom and the Assassin that sought to stop her.


DISCLAIMER: Pokemon are not mine, James is not mine, they are © Nintendo/Game Freak; however, Pookamon are mine and thus cannot be used without me permission. Pooka are © White Wolf.

***

Would the screaming never cease? The man clutched his head in distress. So much for guard duty. It wasn't like this in the old days. Back then it was all stealing Pokemon and having fun. Oh yes, they had been beaten, many, many times (he still smarted when he thought of all the electric burns he had suffered trying to catch that cursed Pikachu) but at least it had been so much easier and more peaceful.

He didn't like making them suffer.

He coiled his blue hair about his hands and pulled on it, anxious. The creatures moaned in their cells, begging to be released, pleading with him in soft, sorrow-filled voices or howling as their Pokemon side took over.

He really did hate working here.

Eventually the sounds got too much for him. He stood up and wandered to the coffee machine. Perhaps a hot drink would help. It certainly couldn't hurt. He threw himself against the wall as two men in Team Rocket shirts and dragging a semi-conscious Nidoran-male morph walked past. They were in something of a hurry.

James followed them, scuffing his feet along the corridor. He remembered a Pokemon he had owned years ago, as a child, a Growlithe. He had loved Growly, just as he had been fond of Meowth. Both of them were gone now. Meowth had not survived metamorphosis. He hated what they were done to his friends. 

Why did they have to kill them?

He watched as the guards threw the poor, beaten nidoranmorph into the cell and then wandered away. One nodded at him.

"How goes the business?" He said, in a friendly enough fashion.

James shrugged, "the usual, screams, pleas, nothing new."

"Don't you love it when they try and bargain with you?" The other guard asked, smiling maniacally.

"Not really." He was not going to say how he despised it with avengence, how he wished he could help them. Or at least leave his post, but he had drawn the short straw, had to stay here until the change of the guards.

The two guards departed, leaving James alone in the hallway.

For a moment, he remembered his partner, Jessie. The two had been so close in their endevours to catch that damned Pikachu, but now things had turned to chaos. Since Giovanni had started putting all his funds into morphing Pokemon and taken Jessie and James off thieving duties (because they couldn't steal a dead rattata), they had not seen each other. James was on night duties, and Jessie on day, and as for Meowth… he had been told the poor cat Pokemon had not survived.

Oh yes, he missed Jessie, with her long red hair and deep blue eyes. Even though she was always bossing him around and belittling him. At least she did it in a friendly way.

He became aware of quiet sobbing, beneath the pleas and the frightened howling. Peering through the grid in the door, he saw the nidoranmorph had awoken and was crying, softly into its hands. James felt the desire to go in there, comfort him. It seemed wrong, so wrong, to keep them like this, they were intelligent beings, almost human. Nothing alive deserved to be made to fight and then locked away until the next time.

Spot the irony?

He opened the door, closing it with a "Click" behind him and entered the tiny room. The young Nidoranmorph looked up as he entered and stared at him with lost, purple-red eyes.

"Come to torture me?" He asked, softly. "It won't work you know, I'm already dead, inside. Nothing you can do will break me. You've already done your worst."

"I'm not going to hurt you," James said softly. "I wanted to comfort you."

The creature looked him straight in the eyes, a piercing look that tore almost to his very soul. "Why?"

James was unable to answer that. He merely shrugged.

"Well, save your pity, Rocket!" The Pokemorph snapped. "I have little enough life left without wasting time talking to you." He put his head in his hands and began whimpering to himself.

James crouched down beside him and put an arm about his shoulders, carefully avoiding the barbs. The Nidoranmorph looked up in surprise.

"You actually want to help me?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah," James replied and knew then what he had to do. All his life he had followed Jessie's suggestions, bourne the brunt of her anger, borne the brunt of Team Rocket's anger. Now he had found something to believe in and he was going to fight. "I want to break you out of here."

The Nidoranmorph's jaw dropped. "Really?" 

The blue-haired man nodded. "Really."

And so he began hatching a plan.

Guard duty the next night came around all too quickly. James literally shook in his Guard attire. He knew what he wanted to do, but it was going to take all his nerve to actually force himself to do it. 

First, he went to the staff room, where the guards spent some of the time whilst they were on duty. Since it was usually quiet, down in the halls of this tomb, the guards themselves were generally involved in standard pastimes – playing poker and gambling. The air reeked with the aroma of smoke.

James wandered in and pulled up a stool.

"Hey man, whatcha doin' in here?" One of the guards, a fat man whose name appeared to be Ned, inquired. "We don't never see you in here, Jamesie-girl."

James frowned. "I thought I'd drop by and see how things were."

"Hah," Ned scoffed. "Still dressing in women's clothing, eh, Jamesie-girl."

He rolled his eyes. These people disgusted him.

Perching uncomfortably on the stool, he leaned over. "Oh, I gave up the girl's clothing a long time ago, Ned," he said, "I guess, perhaps, you haven't got over that."

Ned narrowed his eyes, obviously confused. He did not know whether this man was trying to insult him, or what.

"So why are you in here, today, James?" Asked one of the more kindly guards. This one was a female with short hair, spiked in all directions.

"I just thought I'd catch up with the latest news. You see, I heard a rumour that the Boss was going to shift some of us into the Pit."

Even Ned paled at this. The Pit was not a pleasant place – it was where the failed experiments went, the ones that wound up mad, deformed (moreso then the morphing entailed) or aggressive. If the noises up here were bad, the noises downstairs were even worse, for they were the sounds of those who had already lost all hope, the desperate, the despairing. "He wouldn't send us to the Pit," he said, sounding unconvinced. "Would he Jamesie-girl?"

The young man frowned. "I really don't know," he replied, "but if we fail another fire drill, he's going to be extremely peeved."

Ned frowned. "We don't have fire drills," he said stupidly.

"What do you think all those blaring alarms are?" James taunted.

The big man shrugged, "I dunno."

"Anyway," James hissed conspiratively, "there's going to be a fire drill today. I overheard the Boss talking about it."

"So why're you telling me?" He wasn't as stupid as he looked.

James fiddled with a strand of his blue hair. "Because you're part of my team and how one member behaves reflects on the others." Oh, how he hated Ned. "And I've got work to do, so can you tell the others?"

"Of course, Jamesie-girl, don't break a nail!"

James sighed in aggrevated acceptance. He was used to bullying and belittling. Too used to it. Shrugging it off, whilst inside it bit deep, James returned to his work.

* * *

Four hours later and the blue-haired man hovered beside the fire alarm. He glanced furtively up and down the corridor, then reached out and flicked the switch.

Immediately the siren blared in protest, echoing in the stark hallways. James darted along the hallway, unlocking the cells whilst chaos insued. Some of the captives inside threw themselves against the doors, begging to be saved. James darted into the nearest cell , closing the door behind him as some of the staff started traipsing down it, laughing loudly.

His companion stared at him in amazement, it was a Flareon-morph, exactly what he needed.

"Please," he begged, "I need your help. I need you to blast some fire into the hallway."

The pokemorph turned her golden eyes on him and frowned; "you want my help?" She queried.

"Please."

"I could kill you, you know," she said softly, "but I think, perhaps you hide from something too." She shrugged. Standing up, the five foot five morph swung open the door and blasted scorching hot fire down the passageway. There were several screams.

"Thanks," James replied, "now go, you're free!" He darted out of the cell himself, in the opposite direction of the flame. The siren was still blaring but now several morphs were running down the hallway, some of them fire Pokemon. Perhaps it was not a fire drill after all. James had to hope that the guards would panic when they realised it was not a drill!

He darted into the cell that held the Nidoran-morph, leaning against the wall and panting. His ears rang with the sirens. "Ok," he puffed, "you're free."

The Nidoran stared at him with wide eyes. "Free?"

"Free," James nodded. "Go!"

Standing up, the morph opened the door and stared down the hallway. "I'm free," he whispered, and disappeared through the door. James followed him.

"This way," he hissed, dragging him down a side corridor.

Suddenly someone materialised in front of them. "Leaving so soon?" It queried, in a voice like molasses." It was a Persian-morph, former "pet" of Giovanni, now a morph like the rest of them. She licked her lips hungrily. "I knew something was amiss here," she purred. And sprang.

James was thrown against the wall as the claws viciously snapped out of their velvet pads and tore him across the face and chest. Pain erupted through his body and he felt the warm, hot wetness of his life-blood trickling down his limbs.

"NiDO!" His companion shrieked and leapt at the cat, which twisted nimbly aside. The two faced each other, and then the Persian sprang, both hands, claws glistening, slashing at the unclad Nidoran's chest. The Nidoran lowered his head, meeting the blast full on. The force of the Persian-morph striking him in the forehead twisted his neck painfully backwards and he felt his horn slice into skin. The Persian yowled.

James, now somewhat recovered, although bloody, threw himself onto the back of the Persian, sending it sprawling into the ground. It writhed a little as the poison began to take effect, and tried to drag itself to its feet. The Nidoran kicked it in the head, once, twice, and then he collapsed over it with the effort.

"We can't stay here," James commanded, although it was unlikely the noise would draw any attention to them – with the siren squawling, the Pokemorphs running riot and the guards panicking, James doubted any would be drawn here. Giovanni probably had though the Persian-femme powerful enough to deal with anything.

"It.. hurts," the Nidoran muttered, as James leant him a hand. Blood trickled down his torso. James at least had clothing to protect him. The morph had also been weakened to begin with.

"Per-siAN!" She yowled her battle cry, flinging herself at James. Coins, many of them, circular missiles, shot from her hands and bounced off the young man. He rolled trying to protect himself, for this missiles were not just normal coins. There edges had been sharpened. Blood welled from a multitude of cuts.

The Nidoran whimpered as he sank to his knees.

And then, the last of its energy expended and the poison taking hold, the Persian-morph collapsed to the ground, spasming in her dying throes.

Leaning heavily against the wall, weak and pained, James reached out one blood-stained hand to the Nidoran, once more helping him to his feet. The two of them staggered down the hallway, hand in hand, leaning on the wall for support and suddenly he found the door, the emergency exit.

Pushing down the bar sent another alarm joining the cacophany and the two of them stumbled outside into darkness.

* * *

__

Three Years Later

He awoke in darkness, blessed, beautiful darkness. It held no fears for he, it was his friend, his lover. However, tonight was different, tonight he awoke in a cold sweat, his pulse pounding like a steamhammer. She had been in his dreams again. The beautiful, the lost. He had known her, loved her, before the change and now she was gone. Dead. She had died being changed, died becoming one of the pookamon. And then, one night, he had received a message from Giovanni himself.

He had a task for the Burakki-morph.

A new job.

And so was born Azrael, the Angel of Death. 

He stared at his naked body in the mirror, highlighted by the moonlight. Lithe was he, like a cat. His muscular body was covered in black fur, short and soft as velvet. A shaggy mane of wild hair framed his angular face, with his twilight-violet eyes and long rabbit-like ears. Grooming his fine brush of a tail, he began to dress in his typical black. Tight black shirt, with baggy sleeves, leather pants… Slip a couple of knifes into his knee-high black leather boots, hide another one up his overlarge sleeve. Tuck a few vials of poison into his breast pocket and a blowpipe into his belt… A few more bits and pieces and he was ready for work. He slid on his leather gloves, and wrapped a large black cape about his broad shoulders. Not wanting to disturb his neighbours, he clambered out the window and walked easily along the ledge, until he reached the fire escape. And then, hand over hand, he made his way to the rooftops.

It was so beautiful up here, with moonlight in his hair, and the stars above him, barely visible through the thick city smog. His azure eyes sparkled with the thrill of being one with the sky, in a world many live in but few see.

Across the rooftops he moved, silent as a cat, graceful and stealthful. His large ears twitched as he listened for any sounds out of the ordinary.

It was a straightforward case tonight. The meowth Pookamon had escaped three months ago, abandoning Team Rocket and thus betraying them. She had been tracked down here, in this rundown part of the city, forced to walk the streets to earn money. And what a job for one such as she. Pookamon were freaks, outcasts and the only ones likely to hire the services of a Meowth-pooka were the desperate or the curious. 

Azrael had watched her for a week now, following her movements through the night world. He had stalked her as a hunter stalks its prey. And tonight he was planning to make the kill. This would be almost too easy.

He clambered down the fire escape of a derelict building and stared down into the alleyway below. The sickly sweet aroma of tobacco smoke wafted up to him.

Such a disgusting habit.

And he saw her, surreptiously smoking her cigarette before patrolling the streets in the oldest profession permitted to women. Her large feline ears were motionless, for he is as silent as his friend the darkness. Clambering around the building, he descended before it and walked casually into the alleyway.

She startled as she saw him but quickly regained composure. Probably looking for a quick buck, he thought to himself. If only she knew. He noticed the jewel on her forehead appears tarnished and her whiskers droop. She seemed worn. Death would be a blessing for her.

She smiled at him, a false smile, a pleading smile. "What can I do for you?" She asked, dropping her cigarette and crushing it beneath a stiletto heel.

"I think, more accurately saying, it would be more a case of what I can do for you" he replied, smoothly.

With an easy movement he slid his knife from his sleeve and into his hand, pressing it against her throat.

She gasped, suddenly aware of what was promised to her. She is too slow to react. He is no murderer, he is an assassin and he leaves no scope for error. His blade bites deep into her pale furred throat.

It is over within seconds and he takes no pleasure from her death. She crumples to the ground, a look of stunned fear upon her feline face.

Kneeling before her, Azrael carefully laid her on her back, crossing her hands on her breast so that they covered the tattered clothing she wore. Revealing, yes, in the same way that spider webs were revealing. He closed her eyes and kissed each of her eyelids. In her clasped, still hands, he placed a single black rose.

"Be at peace, mi'lady," he said. 

She looked at peace, restful, almost as though she were sleeping.

With a shimmy of black satin, he is gone, back to the roof tops.

The Burakki-assassin returned to his apartment, sliding easily through the window. He stripped off his cloak, hanging it behind the door and removed his black tunic. A close examination revealed bloodstains, almost invisible to the untrained eye. He dabbed it away with a cloth and cleaned his knife, placing it back on the rack in the kitchen. It was not used as cutlery, for Azrael is vegetarian.

His pet Meowth, a longfurred female that he saved from the streets, entwined between his legs, mewing piteously, pleading for food or attention. He stooped down and scratched her head, her chin. She purred. He felt no shame for what he had done, nothing but a brief stirring of remorse. She had been doomed from the moment she had abandoned the Rockets. The cat Pokemon did not hold his occupation against him, she adored him regardless. If only others would be so understanding.

Shirtless, muscles flexing like snakes, he wandered over to tend to his black rose bush. People said it was impossible to grow a black rose, but Azrael knew better. People had not watered their roses with blood and tears. And he began to sob, quietly, so that none would recognise it for what it was.

It truly was a cursed life.

His teardrops fell into the pot, moistening the roots of the unusual plant, giving it life.

And he cried.

* * *

Leaving the voices, the horrid mocking voices behind her, she ran. They were always around her, behind her... everywhere. People did not understand her, with her fishtail and her blueish-green skin. She collapsed in an alleyway, leaning against the wall. Her mouth bled from the corner, where she had been punched by the leader of the gang.   
She didn't want to do it, hadn't really wanted to hurt them.   
But they had forced her into it.   
And she had left them, dripping wet, unconscious from being blasted against the walls with a strong blast of water. But the voices still followed her. The ever present voices.   
Sometimes she dreamed of the voices, dreamed that they went away and she was finally free. But that was not to be her life. The story of her life was to be trapped and in pain, tormented and abused.   
She hadn't really wanted to hurt them.

She leaned against the brick wall, feeling the relief of the brick behind her back, it was so strong, so stable. She longed for stability and strength in her life. Longed for something.   
A butterfly, small and delicate flitted down the alleyway and she stared at it in 

amazement, fighting the urge to chase it and catch it, as she would have years ago, before she became the woman she was today. To see something so pretty in a place so drab. Brooke knew there was still magic in the world. Somewhere.

She dragged herself back to her feet and skipped from the alleyway. Just because she looked cheerful didn't mean she was cheerful, Brooke was a bizarre cornucopia of simple pleasures and tragic desires. The smell of a pie cooking made her mouth water and she realised how terribly hungry she was, how the beast that was hunger gnawed at her belly with teeth of steel.   
She paused outside a bakery, peering through the grimy window at the cakes beyond. Delicious, creamcakes topped with tiny pieces of strawberry, looking almost like little Christmas decorations, gingerbread men. She liked Gingerbread men, liked to nibble their tiny little toes and work her way up to their face and then...   
SNAP!   
Somebody had thrown a rock at her. She whirled, her almond shape eyes meeting theirs.   
"Get away from my shop you Pokemon freak!" The fat man in the white clothing shouted.   
She cowered and ran, her tail bouncing against her feet.   
And she was still hungry...

The evening found her wandering once more. She had found a package of fish and chips, tucked beneath a park bench, cold, lifeless chips and fish that tasted of...   
She didn't even want to think of what.   
This was no life, the Vaporeonmorph thought to herself. No life at all, wandering the streets hoping to find a rainbow so she could climb up it and get away from this place. 

Or catch it and release her dreams. It was no life, no life at all.   
She assumed Vaporeon form for a time, because it amused her to do so. Thus she went searching for food using the more supreme senses of the water Pokemon. What was that she could smell? Yum, a discarded tuna sandwich. 

Belly low to the ground she approached the enticing foodstuff. It would be enough for her shrunked stomach, enough so that she could sleep feeling content.   
"Meeeoooowww," came a long, low growl and she looked up to find herself staring into the pale eyes of a black Meowth. It slammed one paw down on the sandwich and bared its teeth at her.   
Vicious teeth, nasty shiny teeth.   
"Pooorrrrr," she replied, snarling and suddenly the cat Pokemon attacked.   
Savage claw swipes slashed her short teal fur, tearing gouges in her flesh. She was too frightened to fight back, too terrified to react. She turned tail and hobbled away.   
They all hated her, human and Pokemon alike. What really was the point of it all?   
An idea formed in the Vaporeon's mind, an inkling of an idea that she did not hesitate to grab in both paws and harness.   
Why not end it all? Why should she fear death?   
Feeling thus enthused, she reassumed her human-ish form and stretched. She was naked, but she did not care. It was unimportant, everything was unimportant.   
It did not take her long to find the broken glass, the shattered bottle.   
She took the fragment and held it up to the light, admiring the way the sunset showed through it, reflected off the facets.   
She stared at it for five minutes and then, simply, brought the jagged edge across her wrist, opening a gaping red maw. The grass splintered, leaving fragments of dust in the wound, but it did not matter to Brooke.   


For, suddenly, her destiny was in sight.

*

"What do you think you're doing?"   
The voice, above her, through the crimson veil, her crimson veil her seeping lifeblood, she saw him. Who was he? He was tall with blue hair and eyes of a brilliant leaf green.   
"You have pretty eyes," she said, almost delirious with the sweet pain.   
He dropped down before her and grabbed both her wrists. The pain bit as surely as the glass had. Somehow he managed to wrap cloth around her wrists without releasing them for more than a few seconds. She just sat there and stared at him. Her head felt woosy, as though someone had sucked out her brains and pumped the empty hollow fill of cloud. Her fur was caked with blood.   
"Now," he said, wiping his hands on his tattered jeans. "I repeat my question, what do you think you're doing?"   
She looked up into those eyes as green as the grass. "I'm chasing the rainbow," she said, and then fainted.

When she awoke, much to her surprise. She found she was not, in fact dead. This startled her, for her memories had her dancing along the rainbow in delight. She frowned.   
"What did you bring me back for?" She said, pouting.   
The man's face appeared above her. He smiled. "Because it is not yet your time to die, Brooke."   
"I don't wanna be Brooke, can't you be Brooke and I'll be someone else for a while?"   
He sat down on the bed beside her. "Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way," he said. "I'm James."   
"Hey, I know you, you were with Team Rocket." She dragged herself away from him, staring at him with rabid dark eyes. "You can't take me back, you can't. I won't let you. I'll, I'll spit water at you, lots of water!"   
"I was," he replied, "but no more. I'm here to help you be free."   
"But you stopped me being free, I'd caught the rainbow."   
He shook his head sadly. "You had not caught the rainbow, child, you were hallucinating. I can show you the rainbow."   
"You can?" She smiled at him and grabbed his arm with her hand. Instantly pain shot up her arm. "It burns," she whispered.   
"It hurts, I know," he said gently, but for some reason it disturbed her.   
"How can you know?" She screamed at him, her wrists throbbing as she pulled herself into a crouch. "You have human head, human body you don't know how it hurts to be different to be a freak to be hated by all who see you. You don't know and... and you stole the rainbow from me."   
He placed a reassuring hand on her narrow shoulder. "Be calm," he said, "and describe for me what's beyond the rainbow."   
She looked at him as if he were insane. "You want to know what I saw? Beyond the rainbow."   
"Yes," he said, and nodded.   
"Okay, I'll tell you, but only cos you have such pretty eyes." She smiled at him. "I reached for the pretty colours and they slipped through my fingers, like sand or light and then I tumbled forward and into the brightness and beyond that there was lots and lots and lots of colours, really pretty ones, and lots of little rainbows. And a little dragon with butterfly wings flew up to me an said, he said, "hello Brooke and welcome to the gardens of delight," just like that. So I smiled at him and said, "hello little dragon" and he smiled and turned into lots of little butterflies and flew away.   
"I didn't like it when he flew away. It made me feel like they didn't want me here, you know, unwelcome. But then a tree walked over to me and said, "hello Brooke." And we were in a beautiful place with lovely green fields and a beautiful big lake with rippling silver waters and lots of sparkling fish. It was beautiful."   
"How would you feel if I told you that you could go to your paradise."   
"I'd say you were a nasty lying man." She said with a pout. "You take me from the pretty world and bring me back here and then try and make me sad with promises."   
James looked at her, his green eyes sparkling. "But there is such a place, a secluded island, where all the other Pokemorphs and Pookamon that have escaped can go. And I can tell you how to get there."   
"You can?!!" She grinned and grabbed his arm. "Then tell me mister greeneyes!"   
He smiled. "I shall."   
And he did.

*

The slight, teal-furred woman stared at the sign upon the heavy iron gate before her. It said in large, plain letters, "C.A.I.P". She wrung her hands together.

"He said this was the place, he did, right?" She asked herself, the anxiety showing in her voice. "He said here." She couldn't actually read, but he had shown her the letters and written them on a piece of paper. She held up the scrap of paper. Currently, she was clad in a small shirt and jeans with ragged holes in the knees. James had told her he could get better clothing, but she had laughed at him. She liked the feeling of wind on her knees. Her forehead creased. It had seemed so easy when he had told her but now she was so nervous she could hardly stand still. She also could not open the gate. She fiddled with the latch a bit, but it was too complicated for her. No matter. Forgetting her fear momentarily in favour of the challenge, she clambered over the gate. And laughed when she saw what lay on the other side.

A pathway lead to a small, almost quaint house, set amongst rolling meadows and woodland. She skipped along it. Several Nidorans scattered as she passed them by. Upon reaching the door, she banged on it, once then again impatiently, tapping a tune.

It was opened partway through and she pulled her hand back before hitting a young man in the face.

He smiled at her. He had curly dark hair and friendly brown eyes. Not as pretty as James's eyes, but pretty never-the-less.

"Hello," he said, glancing at her fin-ears, her teal-blue fur and her mermaid like tail.

"You're not Kataryna," she said, "I was told to talk to Kataryna."

He nodded. "You're quite right, I'm not, I'm Kameron and I'm pleased to make your acquantice. Shall I fetch her for you?"

"If you really want to," Brooke replied.

"May I tell her whose visiting?"

Brooke's forehead furrowed in confusion, "if you really want to," she ventured.

"No, I mean, what is your name?"

"I call myself Brooke," she said cheerfully, "cos I like the sound brooks make, that little chuckling sound, almost like they're laughing."

"Very well, Brooke," he said, "come inside, I'll go and fetch her."

A small grey and blue Pokemon leapt onto Kameron's shoulder.

"Makiki?" It chattered.

Brooke curtseyed to it. "Hello little furry-fellow," she said, "I'm Brooke, and I'm here to meet with Kataryna."

"Makimur!"

Brooke nodded in agreement. She followed Kameron inside. 

The house had that comfortable, well lived in look, the door entered into a hallway, where the walls were covered in portraits of Pokemon. A kitchen off to one side displayed a day's worth of unwashed dishes and another one of the grey and blue lemur Pokemon. Kameron escorted her through into a living room. A pair of Nidorans were asleep on a love seat and a Persian lay stretched out in the sun, on a window ledge. 

They ignored her entirely. Brooke sat down carefully on a chair (sideways, else her tail would get in the way and stared out the window. She could see the clouds. They were all white and fluffy, like Merippu. She hugged herself in insecurity, somewhat nervous about the meeting. One of the Nidorans opened an eye and stared at her for a minute, before closing it once more.

A moment later, someone entered the room. It was a woman who looked to be twenty at the most, with long reddish-brown hair down to her waist and bright greenish-blue eyes. "Greetings," she said, "I am Kataryna. I trust you were sent here for a reason?"

"I was told that here I could get closer to touching the rainbow," Brooke replied, enigmatically. "By the man with the beautiful green eyes."

Kataryna nodded, "James," she said. "So I trust you are on your way to the island haven?"

"The place where the rainbow ends," Brooke replied. "I like your Persian, she's pretty."

"Perrr?" The Persian seemed to appreciate the compliment.

"Well," Kataryna said, "welcome to CAIP, you're not really a Pokemon, but our institute here is part of the freedom path for you and your Pookamon kin. I can offer you a house for a few days and then send you on the way to the next sanctuary."

Brooke nodded, James had already explained this to her, and although she hadn't really remembered, she was receiving a distinct sense of déjà vu.

"We of the Freedom trail offer sanctuary to any escaped Pookamon or Pokemorphs. They stop by here on their way to the island haven, where they can, in theory, be totally free. You see," she hunched forward as though something bothered her. "There are people out there who wish you harm, not the least of which is Giovanni himself. Giovanni and I go back a long way, we are old enemies. He will have sent hunters out to get you, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but if they find you before you reach the island haven, you will be killed and they are far from merciful."

Brooke shuddered, her thoughts suddenly filled with dread. "And I'll be save here?" She ventured.

"As save as any of us, my dear, as save as any of us. Now, I'll show you to your quarters. I regret that they are nothing spectacular, but alas, needs must."

"Am I, am I the only one here?" Brooke glanced at one of the potted plants, as though afraid it might bite her.

"Yes," Kataryna replied, "unfortunately there have been fewer and fewer morphs through her recently. It frightens us, because we feel we have not done our jobs sufficently. Anyway, I shall show you to your quarters."

Swinging her tail in one hand, Brooke followed Kataryna down the hallway and through a doorway, into the basement. Inside was a small room. It had all the standard features – a bed, a cabinet and a small wardrobe. It reminded her slightly of the room she had been kept captive in, back in the days before she had escaped Team Rocket. She remembered the door, closed, unable to get out. Cold, intense cold for the room had no heating. How she had huddled, lonely and afraid, back against the door because she was terrified the dark was going to get her.

Her heart started pounding like insanity itself. She screamed, her mouth opening but no sound spewing forth. Pushing Brooke aside, she ran as though the demons of hades were on her tail. She ran down the hallway and through the front door, eventually collapsing in a sobbing heap outside the house, against the wall.

"No," she whispered, "no, don't make me go back there, please oh god no, please don't touch me. No." She was talking to phantoms, shades, things that noone else could see.

Suddenly someone was beside her, Kataryna. The young woman took Brooke's hand in hers, wincing somewhat when she saw the ragged scars. Her terrified flight had dislodged one of the bandages and it flapped in the wind like a flag. The scars were completely unhealed, only the thinnest of scar tissue and the tight bandages stopped them from parting completely. As it was, the exposed one gaped in a slender smile.

"It's okay," she whispered, possibly aware of Brooke's pain. Brooke couldn't tell. She hugged herself and sobbed, tears streaming down her teal cheeks.

Kataryna put her arm about her, and gently ran her fingertips down Brooke's scarred forearm. She experienced a slight tingle, almost like an electric shock and drew back in alarm, staring at Kataryna with wild eyes. Her arm throbbed and when she looked at it she saw the raw flesh had knitted somewhat more than she remembered.

"You, you…" the words escaped her, fleeting away like clouds.

"I am a healer, Brooke," Kataryna said softly, "but I just heal flesh, I cannot heal your mind, your pain. But I hope there are people out there who may be able to."

Brooke smiled, ever so slightly. "Really? You mean, I might be able to reach myself again?"

Kataryna nodded, "Really."

"But you may sleep in the barn, if you like, and promise not to disturb the Charmeleon. She's a tad irritable."

The barn was large and warm, probably due to the pile of straw burning in the corner. Beside it sat a rather annoyed looking Charmeleon. "Bad, bad!" Kataryna scolded her. The Charmeleon chuckled.

"I think I can deal with this one," Brooke said, skipping over. Spraying water from her mouth, she doused the fire and forced the fire lizard to retreat into the corner.

"Charrrr!" It snarled.

Brooke settled down. The barn was much more what she expected. Sure, it was cold, but at least it was somewhat more pleasant then the cramped room.

"I'm going to play with the stars now," she informed Kataryna. The young woman merely shook her head in confusion. 

"Goodnight then, and sweet dreams," she departed.

Charmeleon sulked.

She was dancing through lightbeams, beyond which she could just see the rainbow. It was beautiful, bright, irredescent. She chased the colours, dancing with a moonbeam, juggling a star. And then she saw James's face, his beautiful green eyes, she tried to call out to him, run to him, but something barred her way.

Giovanni, his sly smile aimed directly at her.

"Ah, my little kit has chosen to return home," he said, reaching for her. "Well, do you think I should welcome her back with open arms?" He opened his arms and Brooke found herself being inexplicably drawn towards him. She scrabbled for purchase to try and keep from moving, but the floor was… non-existent and she found herself tumbling into him. He closed his cloak around her and she was shrouded in darkness.

"NO!" She awoke screaming, "I don't wanna go back, I don't wanna, I don't want to!"

And she was afraid.

* * *

"I have another little task for you." Giovanni said menacingly, stroking his chin with one long-fingered hand. His other hand rested on the back of a Persian, who sat there, tall and alert, its eyes glimmering darkly.

Azrael gulped. "Yes, my Lord?"

"A simple matter," the Boss of Team Rocket reached into a pile of papers and drew out a manilla folder. He slammed it down on the desk. "Another simple little assassination for you. Nothing too difficult, but perhaps, a little trickier than the last. You see, we do not know where she is to be found now."

He flicked open the folder deftly, revealing a photograph, somewhat out of focus, of a teal skinned girl with finned ears and silver-white hair. "Her name is Brooke, or at least, that is what she goes by. She was last seen in Celadon City by one of our spies. However, since then, she appears to have gone to ground. Your task is to track her down and," he paused dramatically as if what he was saying was going to come as a surprise to the Burakki-morph, "… kill her."

Azrael bowed his head. "Of course, Sir, anything you desire."

A wicked smile crossed Giovanni's lips. "Of course. And because of the nature of this task, I shall give you as long as is required to track her down. Here are her details, I am sure they shall make _fascinating_ reading." He handed the dark morph the folder and then waved him out. "I trust you shall do your duty to your usual high ability?"

"Of course," Azrael nodded.

*

Cat crawled onto his lap. She purred and rubbed her head against him, sensing his pain. It was not that Azrael felt guilty in killing, it was just that he wished it was not so necessary. He loved his Boss, almost as much as he feared him, and would do anything for him. But Vaporeons…

Azrael had known a Vaporeon once, before the Change. They had been friends, lovers almost and it had saddened him greatly when he discovered that she had not survived metamorphisis. But that was the sorrow that comes from such things. He stroked Cat's head and she nudged him affectionately. Flicking over the pages, he learnt the secrets of the Vaporeon Pookamon called Brooke.

She was young, he discovered, a mere seventeen years and had undergone the Change about the same time he had, not that there was anything unusual in that. The experimentation was at an all time high at that point and close to a hundred Pokemon had undergone metamorphosis each day. He sighed sadly to himself as he thought how depressing it was that she had survived what so many others, like his beloved, had failed to. It had been thought at first that the transformation had been a failure, where Brooke was concerned. The human genes they had gathered from a runaway girl, who had obviously not been entirely stable of mind. For the first few months they had thought Brooke insane. And then, one day, she had run away and disappeared. Occasional glimpses had been seen of her here and there, but she was thought to be low-risk – there were no secrets she could spill and no real harm she could do.

And then, as usual, Giovanni had changed his mind. He could not have disloyal Pookamon surviving and so had summoned Azrael to do his duty.

Azrael closed the folder. Well, Celadon City it was then.

*

The wild Meowth hissed and squirmed as Azrael clung to it, holding it within his violet gaze.

"Where is she?" He asked it.

"Meoowwtthhhh!" It hissed.

"Oh, come on," he said casually, "you can tell me, I won't hurt you." He paused, "unless you don't tell me, that is."

"Meoowttth meow meow meowth!"

Azrael nodded and carefully set the cat Pokemon down. "She tried to steal your food then," he said, "I understand why you are mad at her. But don't worry, I intend to find her."

"Meow oooowww!" The Meowth loped off, calling to Azrael to follow it.

"Fine then," the Burakki morph said, smiling slyly, and headed after it.

It led him to an alleyway, dark and shadowy. A strange smell hung in the air. The assassin could smell what the slightly fishy smell that he normally attributed to Vaporeons, mixed with something else. A smell most familiar to the Burakki-morph.

"Blood?" He questioned, bending down and examining the filth covered ground. Yes, there was definitely blood here, old, dry, almost lost amongst the heady smell of rotting fruit and mouldering paper. But definitely blood. Further inspection revealed a broken bottle, its sharp edge caked with flaky brown paste.

"There has been a fight here," he said to himself. "Or, perhaps not… So where is the body?" He turned to look at the Meowth, but the feral cat had already vanished like a shadow itself.

"Oh well, no matter." Crouching on hands and knees, Azrael dipped his finger into the puddle of crusted blood, tasting it gingerly. It tasted coppery, with a touch of salt. He smiled to himself. "Definitely blood, and a lot of it too, from the looks of things." His sharp eyes studied the area, although it had been much disturbed, it had been some days since the Vaporeon had been here and bled here. 

"Here is the depression, caused by someone of relatively slender build having a bit of a sit down," he muttered to himself. "And it is just above the blood puddle, not only that, but this broken bottle was found here," he stamped at the place, "where it could have fallen out of someone's hand. So, the blood was not shed accidently, but more by the intent of the person whose blood it is. Pokemon blood, from the taste, but not quite." He seemed proud of himself. "Now, the amount of blood shed here is rather high, more than would normally be found in a person of slight built if that person were still to be functional, therefore, someone must have helped her." He sniffed the air. Mixed in with the pollution, the grime and the general smell of too many people living in too small a place, was something else.

The faint, barely detectable except by Burakki nostrils, aroma of…

… hairspray.

Azrael smiled. "I shall find you, who helped the little fish-girl and you shall help me to find her." He did a little twirl so his tail swung around. "And then I shall… despatch of her." For a moment, a shadow of sadness crossed his dark face, but was then banished. "And she shall welcome me for it, as they all do, for it is her wish, after all.

To die."

* * *

The sun sparkled merrily on the waters, illuminating the young woman bathing in the shallows. She flicked water about with her mermaid-like tail and admired the way the sun shone through the droplets. Oh, Brooke was certainly happy today!

Skipping ashore, she startled an Eevee that had been sunning itself. As it made to dart away, the Pookamon knelt before it.

"Hello little Eevee, how are you today?"

"Eeee vee," it replied.

She smiled and picked the Eevee up, "like that huh? I'm happy. And do you know why?" 

The Eevee confessed that it did not know why, "Vee?"

"Because I found the nicest most prettiest man in the world with beautiful green eyes."

"Vee."

"Do you think he liked me?" She asked the small chihuahua like Pokemon.

"Eevee?" It shrugged.

Brooke danced around in a circle, still holding the Eevee. It did not seem too happy with it all. She set it down on a small wall. "I don't know if he likes me," she admitted, "but he could and wouldn't that be great? If Mr pretty Green-eyes liked me?"

"Eee veee eeeev!" Eevee wanted down. Brooke suddenly noticed the little creature was trying to pick up the courage to jump.

"Oh, I'm sorry, little fellow!" She exclaimed, and lifted it down. "So," she said, "do you think he likes me?"

She paused a moment, during which the Eevee, somewhat disgruntled, scampered away. Then she dropped to her knees and began sobbing. "Of course he doesn't like me, I'm a freak, a god-damned freak. No one could ever like something like me unless they were something like me." Her hands fiddled nervously with the bandages, which were stained and needed changing anyway. "I'm just a freak."

The Eevee stuck its nose out of the bushes and nuzzled against her cheek.

"Ee vee," it said.

She reached out and stroked it. It rolled on its back, begging her to pat its stomach. Brooke obliged. "Nobody likes a freak," she whispered.

Suddenly the bushes parted and Kataryna pushed through them. Eevee lifted its head up and Vee'd in greeting. She sat down opposite Brooke, cross-legged.

"I like you," she said softly.

Brooke fiddled with strands of her silver-white hair. "You're different though," she said. "I wasn't all that nice to Mr James when I met him, but he was real nice to me and I kinda, you know, miss him. I want to see him again, but I don't think a man could ever, you know, like a freak like me."

The young woman patted her on the knee. "You never know," she said softly, "you never know. Now, how about you put some clothes on and come with me, I've got a new arrival you might like to meet."

"A new arrival, like what? Is it an Eevee? I like Eevees!" Brooke set the Eevee on the ground and darted off to pick up her clothing. Kataryna shook her head, partly in disbelief, in all her time working with Pokemorphs and Pookamon on the Freedom Trail, she had never met one quite like Brooke. There was something about the Vaporeon's radical mood changes that was almost disturbing and a little disorientating. She stood up, scooping the Eevee up in her arms.

"Come on Buttons," she said, "you might like to meet this new fellow too."

"Ee vee?"

*

"Vullll," the fox whimpered as Kataryna knelt down beside it.

"Oh, you poor little doggy," Brooke whispered, gazing upon the tiny beaten fox. It looked at her and whimpered once more. "What happened to it?" Its body was scrawny and one leg was heavily bound in a cast.

Kataryna stroked it gently. "A gin trap," she replied, "with huge jaws that are made to crush the animal's leg."

"Wander, SNAP!" Brooke mimed with her fingers. "Poor little foxy. So what do you do to it?"

"Well," the young woman replied, "I'll heal it up and let it go, once it is well enough to walk, but firstly, we have to feed it up."

"So why would, you know, the big mean people want to catch a cute little vulpix?" For once Brooke seemed in touch with reality.

"Human beings are cruel," Kataryna stated plainly, "it would do you good to always remember that, they catch Pokemon, kill them and skin them so they can wear their fur."

"I wouldn't wear fur," the vaporeon-morph said happily, "I've got my own." She ran one hand down the short, but dense teal fur that covered her body (like a seal or an otter's).

"I also have some bad news for you, my friend," Kataryna said, sounding sad. "Tomorrow you must continue on your journey. For I fear the bad people are almost here. I think they know about my little sanctuary."

Fear stabbed Brooke like broken glass. "But I don't wanna leave, I like it here," she whined, "with the birds and the bees and the bright pretty grass. With Kameron with his pretty hair and you with your pretty clothes."

Kataryna chuckled. "Unfortunately, it would not be safe for you to remain here, with us. There is only one place you can be safe, truly safe, and that is the Island Haven."

"Will Mr Green-eyes be there?"

"I don't know," Kataryna whispered, "I really don't know. But one more night, that's all I can say will be safe for you."

The teal-furred woman stroked the little Vulpix on the head. "But I like it here," she whispered. "I like it here."

  * * *
  * James stirred. Something had awoken him. He always was too tense nowadays, so tense the slightest noise woke him whilst he slept. It was a squeaking noise, the sound of his window opening. It had always made that noise and he had always meant to get it oiled, but had never got around to it. Was it time then? Had he finally been caught out?

He listened closer, but there was nothing more then the gentle hum of traffic outside his apartment building, a gentle hum despite the late hour. Nothing but silence.

Had he imagined things?

No, he doubted that. He did not imagine things, it was too damn chancy nowadays to imagine anything.

Trying to keep as silent as possible, he reached into his top drawer and drew forth the gun that resided there. Except… there was no gun, it was gone!

Panic rose in his throat and suddenly he realised something.

The shadow behind the door was not a shadow at all, but a figure.

A tall, dark figure with a golden halo on the middle of its dark forehead.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice breaking with fear. He drew the duvet up under his chin, as though a single blanket would protect him from the creature that stood before him. It was one of the Changed, he saw that now and judging by its entrance, not a benevolent one.

"An answer to a question," the figure said in a deep, menacing voice, "nothing more, nothing less."

And terrified now, the young man saw that the creature held not a gun, but a long thin dagger, its blade glinting cruelly in the darkness. "Anything," he whimpered.

"Ah, I thought as much," the figure moved closer, leaning over the bed, his breath hot and smelling of onions and pepper. "You always were somewhat cowardly, weren't you James?"

"How do you know my name?" James whimpered.

"I know many things," the dark angel continued, "I know that three years ago you abandoned Team Rocket, at the same time as the Pokemorphs, the first batch of the Changed, escaped. I know you had something to do with it.

And I know that you met one of my kin, the Pookamon just three days ago."

James tried to crawl further under the blankets.

"I am an assassin," the figure explained, "and normally I would not bother with this little conversation, but unfortunately, I find myself in dire need of knowledge." He paused for dramatical purposes.

"Where is Brooke?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Even in his intense state of fear, James was trying to be brave.

"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," the Pookamon snapped, his violet eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I know you met her, so don't lie to me, or I'll let this do the talking," he sliced the blade through the air, pressing it against James's Adam's apple. The pain of the slight prick made the man's eyes water. To say he was terrified was a major understatement.

"Okay," he whispered, "I'll tell you."

"That's better," the assassin seemed to smirk. "Well then, where is she? And you know, if you tell me wrong I'll be back here to complain!"

He gulped, the knife sharp against his throat. "She's at a place called CAIP near the base of Mount Moon. That's where I told her to go." He prayed that she had moved on from there and that Kataryna and Kameron were better liars then he.

"Thank you, so kindly," the assassin replied. "Unfortunately, you have also betrayed the corporation."

James had been half expecting this. Anyone that was after Brooke was liable to be after him too. The fear spurred something in him, a bitter desire for self-preservation. With his feet still under the duvet, he brought them up, catching the assassin in the side. The knife bit into his throat, drawing a droplet of blood, but quickly fell aside as the assassin stumbled. Grasping the duvet, James flung it at the assassin before he had time to recover. The morph stumbled backwards as the cloth fell over his head and his knife cluttered to the floor, harmless. Jumping out of bed, and glad that it was cold enough to sleep in something, even if that something was just his boxer shorts, James ran for the door.

He got out of his room easily enough, but upon reaching the front door he found that all the locks and chains he had employed were anything but good once the badness got on this side of the door. He fumbled with the chain. Now he could hear the assassin cursing and muttering in his room. He wished he had his gun, at least it would have offered some security.

The chain clanged against the door, released and he turned his attentions to the sliding bolt. Suddenly the familiar smell wafted over him. Onion, pepper; he whirled finding himself face to face with the assassin.

How had he moved so silently?

Another silver dagger flashed in the dark figure's hand as James threw the bolt aside and pushed the door open. He threw himself through just as the assassin charged at him, meeting instead the door itself.

Not looking back, James bolted as though the demons of Hades were on his tail.

And in a way they were.

The silence behind him was strangely more horrifying then if there had been noise.

A blast of darkness hit him from behind and he stumbled, tumbling at the top of the stairs. Dark thoughts filled his head, anxiety at the loss of his friend Jessie, pain at the death of Meowth, regret at having given away the location of Brooke… Suddenly everything was replaced by agony as he tumbled down the stairs. He could hear startled noises, hear doors opening as people investigated the noises but all he could feel was pain, washing over him in painful, agonising waves.

And then darkness.

* * *

Blue eyes fluttered open and Brooke screamed. "He's hurt, I know it, Mr Green-eyes is hurt!" She sat bolt upright in the darkness of the barn. Buttons the Eevee, asleep across her chest, jumped to her feet.

"EEE VEEE!" She shouted in alarm as she tried to regain her footing on the concrete floor of the barn.

"I must go to him," Brooke said softly. "I must save him. I shall ride the lightning, harness it and be at his side. Don't you think that's sweet of me?" She asked the Eevee.

Not that Buttons really cared. 

Brooke stole out of the barn and across the lawn, failing to disturb the Charmeleon asleep in the pen. Despite her size and tendency to skip, the Vaporeon-morph could be quite quiet at times. Buttons followed her anxiously.

"No, no little eevee," Brooke scolded her, "following me is not good for your health at all. It'll get you hurt. I have to go back to the bright city. Oh yes I do." Reaching the wall, she scrambled over it, landing in the soft ground on the far side. "Must go to Mr Green-eyes." Once Brooke's mind was made up, Brooke's mind was made up.

Buttons scrambled clumsily up the wall behind her and whimpered as the Vaporeon-femme headed off across the grassland. She glanced forlornly back at the house and the beautiful grounds, then scrambled down the far side and ran after Brooke.

The child needed someone to take care of her.

* 

She had been running for twenty minutes when the young Vaporeon-girl had to stop for breath. The cold air seared in her lungs like it was edged with needles. She collapsed into the grass, sobbing.

"He's in trouble and I can't help him," she gasped. "I can't help him because I'm a freak. I'm a goddamned freak." Having regained enough breath she threw her head back and screamed to the stars above, "I'M A FREAK!"

Silence answered her.

Putting her head in her hands, she cried, and cried.

Something nudged her. Something warm. "Ee vee?" It queried.

"Eevee?!" Brooke turned and scooped the little creature up in her arms. "You came with me!"

"Ee vee ee VEE!"

"I know, I need your help," she said softly, "I can't hardly help myself. He stole the rainbow from me, Eevee, but I want to help him anyway.

What happens if he's caught the rainbow?"

"Ee VEE!" Buttons insisted.

Brooke squeezed her. "He'll be fine, won't he girl? Of course he will. Everything will be fine, everything's always fine…"

She wished she could believe that.

New resolve strengthening in her, Brooke stood up, stretching her aching muscles and continued to walk back to Celadon City.

*

"If you're out there all alone, and you don't know what the sense is," Brooke sang to herself as she half walked, half skipped across the meadow. Flowers had been tucked into her silvery-white hair.

"Ee veee, eee veee!" Buttons sang from a perch half across her shoulder.

"That's not the words," the morph pointed out, "it's come and look how it could be in future world!"

"Ee veee, eee veee!" Buttons agreed.

Brooke sighed. "You can't sing girl," she said softly. Suddenly she paused. Somewhere, not far away, something crackled. Startled, the Eevee clutched close to the woman's shoulder. Brooke crouched low, as nervous as the Pokemon. She knew when she was being hunted.

Peering through the long grass, the Vaporeon-morph saw someone, a small woman, not much bigger then she, clad in a tattered shirt and dirty leggings. The skin on her head and limbs appeared to be lightly armoured, as though she were covered in square greyish (everything looks grey by moonlight) plates. Brooke paused. And watched.

The girl walked slowly through the moonlight, crouching low, nervously as though she were hiding from something. She gradually came closer, and suddenly Brooke realised that her tail was in the way. The Vaporeon-morph stood up.

The Sandshrew girl immediately shrieked in fear, making Brooke cover her ears.

"No noise!" She shouted. "Shut up!"

"EEE VEE!" Buttons agreed.

The girl stopped shrieking. "Who are you?" She demanded.

"I am who I am," Brooke replied enigmatically, "and I am whatever you wanna make of me. But you can call me Brooke, if you like. What might I call you?"

The girl stared at her, her eyes wide. "I don't remember," she stuttered. "I don't know my own name."

"Then I shall have to catch one for you," Brooke replied, doing a little twirl. "Because everyone needs a name, how else would they know what they are?"

"Eevee?" Buttons was confused.

The Vaporeon girl stroked her chin. "I think I shall call you…" she paused, "Sandy, yeah, Sandy, cos you're a Sandshrew."

The Sandshrew stared at her, looking somewhat startled and more then a little scared.

"Eevee, eevee?" The Pokemon queried.

Brooke nodded in agreement, "yeah, you're right, its dull like a rock. I think we should catch you a name that glows like a gem. What's a good name, Eevee?"

"Ee vee ee vee eevvee."

"That's a pretty name," Brooke replied, "but I'll lose it in the middle and forget it on the outside."

The girl looked as if she were about to run away. "What do you want?"

"I want," Brooke, momentarily distracted pondered this all important question. "I want a nice house in a place where people don't want to kill you with a nice man like Mr Green-eyes."

The Sandshrew-morph rolled her eyes. 

Suddenly something clicked in Brooke's head. "I know, let's call you Cassandra. I had a cousin called Cassandra once, or was that Jessica?" She scuffed her foot in the dirt.

"Cassandra's fine," the girl replied, both frightened and fascinated. "What are you doing out here?"

"Talking to you," Brooke answered, truthfully.

"Eevee eee vee vee evveee!"

"Oh yeah, I'm going to help Mr Green-eyes cos something real bad happened to him and I'm kinda worried he might be, you know, a little bit dead."

"Dead? You're looking for someone who might be dead?"

"We all might be dead," Brooke replied quite honestly, "until someone finds us and says we're, thing, you know, alive. So Mr Green-eyes might be dead now, but when we find him, he'll be alive cos he has to be."

"Ee vee?" Buttons shrugged as Cassandra stared at her in grim and confused, fascination.

"Oh, come with us," Brooke said happily, "Eevee was teaching us a song."

The newcomer stared at her. "But I'm running from Celadon," she said softly, "they're nasty people there."

"But they think you're running away so if you go there they won't know you're you and you'll be safe." Brooke stated firmly, placing her hands on her hips and beginning to stride away purposefully.

Glancing furtively from side to side, Cassandra hurried after her. "I suppose a little company won't hurt," she replied softly.

And the two of them marched onwards, towards Celadon City, to catch the rainbow.

*

"Look at the pretty lights," Brooke clapped her hands. "Don't you sometimes think it looks as if the stars have fallen from the sky, and you know, crushed the poor little village."

"This is more then a village," Cassandra pointed out. She had become somewhat used to Brooke's bizarre mannerisms and wild mood swings. "It's Celadon City, home of the biggest Casino is the whole area."

"What's a Casino?" Brooke asked. "Is it like a place where you can dance around with bright colours and pretty young men made only of light?"

The Sandshrew-morph shrugged. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied, "a Casino is a place where you throw all you money away in the hope of winning some."

"Oh," the Vaporeon-morph clapped her hands delightedly. "A wishing well!"

"Eee veee…" Buttons rolled her eyes.

"Um, weren't we here to help your friend?" Cassandra prompted.

Nervous laughter was her reply and a look of sudden shock that crossed Brooke's face. "Mr Green-eyes, he's in trouble, we gotta help him." She paused, "but first we've got to find him. Have you got a James-finding thingummy jiggymy?"

"I'm afraid they don't exist," Cassandra pointed out.

"Really?" Brooke replied. "Then what's this?" She stooped over and picked up a bottle-top.

"Eeevee," Buttons replied solemnly.

"It could be! Just cos it looks like a bottle top. If you hold it up to the moon like this," she held it so that it covered the moon. "And then, you know, think real hard of Mr Green-eyes." She closed her eyes in intense concentration, whilst Cassandra watched with the curiosity. Suddenly one eye opened, turning a baleful glare onto the ground Pokemorph. "You're not thinking of him!" Brooke scolded.

"I never met him!" Cassandra replied. "How can I think of someone I never met?"

Suddenly, Brooke turned and stared at something beyond the distance, beyond what they could possibly see. Casually she flung the bottle top aside so that it clattered into the dirt and she started to run down the hill. Buttons clung to her shoulder for dear life.

"Oh, here we go again," Cassandra thought to herself as she darted after them in pursuit.

*

Brooke stood before a building, which was shrouded in darkness, since it was about five in the morning. The streetlights illuminated the area, but this particular place was free of neon lights and advertising boards. She clapped her hands and stared at Cassandra, her blue eyes burning with an inner fire.

"Something badder then a alakazam with spoon ache has happened here," she said. "Something, you know, really really bad."

"Eevee eevee vee!" Buttons nagged.

"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Brooke sounded rather disturbed at the prospect, "we'd wake them all up!"

"Oh, for goodness sake," Cassandra sighed. She reached out and pushed a button. "But you do the talking."

After a lengthy pause, a voice, tired and worn, came over the intercom. "Yeah, what the hades do you want, do you know what hour this is?"

"You want to know the time?" Brooke asked. "It's like, probably nearly dawn I'd say."

"No, I want to know why you're pushing my buzzer at this hour of the morning."

"I didn't push your buzzer, but, I want to know if the darkness has, um, well, come to your house tonight."

"I don't need this rubbish," the disembodied voice replied, "I've already been woken up once tonight when some fool fell down the stairs, damn near killed himself. So unless you can give me one good reason, I'm going now!"

"I don't think you should because…"

Whatever Brooke was going to say was halted by Cassandra pushing her aside. "This fool that fell down the stairs, I don't suppose you happen to know what happened to him?"

"They took him to hospital," the voice replied. "Now, sod off!"

"Do what?" Brooke asked, but Cassandra grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

"He's been taken to hospital," she explained, "which means he's probably still alive. So if you want to see you Mr Green-eyes, we can go and visit him tomorrow. Happy?"

"Not really," she replied softly. "Mr Green-eyes is hurt bad. So I'm not happy, I'm never happy when people I like are hurt. I'm happy when they're happy though!"

Cassandra nodded. "Now, let's find ourselves somewhere to sleep."

*

Morning came and Buttons bounced all over the two woman, sleeping in their true Pokemon forms (it was more comfortable to do that, and cheaper). Brooke stirred first. "Hello little one," she said, as Buttons licked her face, "has the rainbow come to rouse us yet?"

Beside her, the Sandshrew stirred. "Shrew?" She muttered.

Brooke had already reassumed her human(ish) form and quickly got dressed. The early morning air was bitter cold on her fur, even if it was thick and waterproof.

"Hurry up and greet the dawn," she almost snapped at Cassandra, "we've got something really important to do, haven't we?" She glanced at Buttons for affirmation.

"Ee VEE!"

"Oh yeah, that's right. We've got to save Mr Green-eyes!"

"Does he have a real name?" Cassandra asked, assuming her morphic form and dressing herself quickly. 

"Of course," Brooke replied haughtily, "he's Mr Green-eyes."

"Vee," Buttons sighed.

The two girls and the Pokemon wandered down the street, fairly aimlessly. They got more then a few glances and double looks, because they were, after all, somewhat different from the norm. Cassandra seemed extremely nervous about it, half hiding behind Brooke wherever possible. The vaporeon, on the other hand, appeared not to even notice and skipped from paving stone to paving stone, taking care to avoid cracks along the way. She sung as she did it.

"Eeeveee ee VEE!" Buttons shrieked.

Brooke twirled around and stopped. "What is it? Oh, I see."

"We've reached the hospital," Cassandra stated. "Now, let's go and find your Mr Green-eyes."

*

"I'm sorry, this is a hospital, you can't just waltz in and expect to be allowed to visit anyone you like."

"I don't want to visit anyone I like," Brooke stated, "I want to visit Mr Green-eyes."

The receptionist frowned. "I'm afraid we don't want your type, or that type," she nodded at Buttons, "in here. So scram, or I'll call security."

"I don't want you to call security," Brooke said softly, "I want to find Mr Green-eyes, he stole the rainbow from me and I want to see him and tell him I'm glad he hasn't caught it yet. A bottle top led me to him, you know."

Cassandra grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away. "Sorry for disturbing you, miss," she said softly.

"What was that about?" Brooke challenged her. "You don't want me to find James, do you? You want to keep me away from Mr Green-eyes."

"I just don't want to cause trouble," the Sandshrew-femme replied.

"Trouble, shmuzle," Brooke sighed. "We'll have to do this that harder than it looks way."

"Eevee!"

"Yeah, you're right," the Vaporeon morph said, carefully removing her clothes in the middle of the waiting room.

"Hey, you can't do that here!"

"Porr!" The Vaporeon spat a bubble of water at her and then skittered across the floor. A moment later, a Sandshrew followed.

The receptionist pushed a buzzer. "We have three Pokemon loose in the hospital!" She shouted, "Security!:

Buttons ran across the floor, Brooke close on her tail. The Sandshrew, not as fast, was struggling somewhat to keep up. And then the first obstacle became clear. The door was shut.

Luckily, at that moment the door swung open as security arrived on the scene. Buttons leapt between the man's legs and Brooke braked and tumbled around him. His flailing arms narrowly missed her tail. But Cassandra, somewhat slower, leapt straight into his embrace. 

Brooke did not even notice her companion had been captured. She skidded on the newly cleaned floor, enjoying the lack of resistance beneath her paws. As she reached the floor she sprang off the wall, preparing to do it again, until Buttons shrieked at her to keep moving. She had forgotten the need for speed, once again. Suddenly the two fleeing Pokemon reached the foot of a staircase.

"Vee!" Buttons shrieked and started leaping up the stairs, Brooke hot on her tail. They had nearly reached the top when someone reached out and grabbed the vaporeon about the waist.

Brooke screamed in fear and surprise. She swung her tail about clobbering him in the middle. It winded him but his grip was powerful and she could not escape.

"Eeveee!" Buttons shrieked, barreling into the wall, bouncing over and hitting the captor in the face. The force knocked him backward against the wall and he released Brooke. She immediately leapt over his shoulder and onto the floor and raced up stairs.

She was beginning to wish she'd brought her bottle top.

Panting, the Eevee and the Vaporeon stopped outside a room. Brooke scented the air.

Would you like to dance with me? She asked the air in general, for the scent of green is nearly here.

Eevee stared at her blankly, but Brooke took off again, sliding across the floor. She came to a rest outside another door.

I've found the treasure, she said.

Very good, Buttons replied, but how do we get in?

This puzzled Brooke. You must wait for me, or for the magic to touch you.

You want me to stand guard, right? The Eevee clarified things.

Why would you need to stand, you can sit or lie? But lying can be bad because then you are dishonest.

Just go!

Brooke slipped under the door (by turning herself to water, how else?). When she reformed again, she found herself in a bright ward. It was bright because of the light reflecting off all the sterile walls.

It's like they've trapped the sun, she said to herself, I better free it.

Suddenly she remembered her purpose and assumed her humanoid form again. She twitched her tail and glanced around the room.

And there was Mr Green-eyes, asleep in a bed with a box beside him that went "bleep, bleep, bleep."

"Not pretty noise at all," she said, half to herself. 

"Eevvee!"

Remembering her Eevee friend, she opened the door and Buttons barrelled in, straight into her arms. It then occurred to her that she could have opened the door in human form from the outside, but that thought like so many others, was fleeting.

"I found Mr Greeny-eyes," she said, picking Buttons up and swinging the tolerant Eevee around. She then set her down on the bed. "Only he don't look too happy to see me."

Buttons walked forward and nuzzled him in the chin. A mask covered his face and his blue hair hung about his face, matted. 

"He's a sleeping beauty," Brooke said cheerfully, although there was a tinge of worry there. She knew it was serious. "And how do you wake sleeping beauties?"

"Eevee," the Eevee shrugged.

"Like this," Brooke leaned over the bed and kissed James on the forehead. This did not have the desired result. She folded her arms.

"Harumph." For a moment she stared at the ceiling and the suddenly a grin spread across her face like the sunrise.

She reached forward and removed the mask.

A moment later, she and Buttons leapt under the bed, terrified, as footsteps pounded in the hallway and something bleeped loudly and persistently.

"No, make the hurting stop," Brooke cried, "my brain, its trying to eat its way out of my head!"

"Eevee!" Buttons urged her to be quiet.

Voices came from above.

"I guess he must have pulled it out himself."

"Strange, he hardly seems to have moved at all. What do you think his odds are, Leisha?"

"Not great," the female replied, "but his air supply was disconnected and he's still breathing, that's something."

"Yeah," the male voice added. "Oh well, I suppose all we can do is wait."

"But what am I to do?" Brooke whispered, and then the Eevee tried to smother her into silence.

All they could do was wait.

* * *

He stood at the end of a long dark tunnel. Around him came the hollow, but distant, sounds of voices. Pleading, lonesome voices.

"Please save us."

"What did we ever do to you?"

"Why can't we be free?"

He shivered, hugging himself, aware that he wore naught but his underclothing. But it was not the air that bit chill into his bones, it was the very atmosphere. A swirling silver mist surrounded the edges of the hallway, swirling a spiralling in wisps and little clouds.

"Save us!" The wisps formed a face, but not a human face, any fool could see that.

"Release us!"

"Avenge us!"

"I, I wish I could," the man stammered, hugging himself closer. And at the end of the hallway he could see it, a shimmering colourful mist.

A rainbow.

He stepped down the hallway. One step, two steps.

The voices swirled around him.

"You are a failure, James, you will never amount to anything."

"Jamsie-girl, Jamsie-girl."

"It's all your fault!"

"I see once again, you have failed me."

He closed his eyes, stepping forward another step, another.

A woman stood before him, a Meowth-morph. Blood trickled from a hole in her heart.

"You failed me," she whispered. "You failed to protect me, and He killed me."

"I am your worst nightmare," a face appeared then just as quickly was drawn away.

"Just get out and don't come back!"

"Look's like Team Rocket's blasting off again."

"Why don't you just give up?"

Something sprang in front of him. A Meowth.

"Yer let me die," he said, putting his feline hands on his hips. "Yer let dem take me away and day killed me. Yer didn't even try ter stop 'em. Yer always was a coward James."

Hot tears stung his face, seering down his cheeks like burning icicles.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said.

"Well yer did, yer made me dead. Yer killed me just like yer killed that poor Meowth-chick. Da one dat He got. Yer couldn't even protect yer own friends. What kind of friend was yer? Who lets dem take one of their friends away an' be killed. What kind of friend?"

Suddenly the cat hovered before him.

"Da kind of friend dat you are!"

The claws came out and he barely could pick up the esteem to pull away as they sliced the air in front of his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"Of course yer sorry, yer always bloody sorry, but dat don't make me any less dead, does it? No. It don't make dat poor hooker any less murdered.

Yer're a failure James-girl, a failure!"

It was probably the use of that particular phrase that caused James to call forth enough anger to push away the Meowth and push on through the cloying mist. It was getting thicker now and he could hear the voice behind him taunting.

"Jamsie-girl, Jamsie-girl!"

Clenching his teeth, the blue-haired man bravely, or at least boldly, pushed on.

Another two steps, a third…

The mist dived in, as though it were alive, blocking his way. Suddenly it exploded away and a woman stood there, clad in a small top and an extremely short skirt.

"You betrayed me, you abandoned me!" She glared at him, her eyes azure, almost violet. "You were my friend and you left me in that place to die inside."

"I, I'm sorry," he stuttered. He could not seem to form the words right. He was frightened very frightened, he had never been so frightened of her before. She was his friend, and he loved her like a sister, the sister he never had. But now, now her anger shocked even he, and he was well used to her temper. "Please forgive me."

"I could never forgive you!" She screamed at him, her hands clasping at her improbably large hairstyle. "Do you know what happened? Do you? When you ran, I was left behind, trying to stop the freaks from escaping. Do you know what that was like?"

He shuddered at the word "freak."

"It was terrible, terrible. A Nidoking freak came out of nowhere. He lowered his head and speared me right through, see!" Her hands clasped her stomach and when she drew them away he saw a gaping hole, blood and venom dripping from it. He shuddered.

"You were responsible for my death, you killed me!"

"No," he whispered, "you were my best friend, I loved you…"

"Yes well," she said, lifting his chin up with her gloved hand. Her eyes were filled with fire and the wound in her stomach had vanished. "I never loved you, boy, hah, I was glad when they separated us, glad when they finally got you the hell away from me!"

"Don't do this to me," he whispered. "Please don't."

"Why not?" She taunted, crossing her arms. "You never could stand up to me, could you? No, you always were a whiny little wimp. Always wanting to do what was right. No wonder we were failures! You made us that way!"

Something in him finally snapped. Maybe it was years of abuse, maybe it was just that he had, finally managed to assert himself by helping the Pookamon. Whatever it was, he brought his emerald eyes up to her sapphire ones.

"You are not her," he said, his eyes blazing with an inner fire that matched hers. "You are a spectrum, a shade. Something that frightens children.

Jessie would never treat me this way."

Suddenly she turned away from him, her shoulders hunching and shaking.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, and he fancied she was crying. "I just, its so cold here, so cold and dark. Please James, stay with me and keep me warm."

His heart melted, he always had been too tender hearted and what if this was not a shade? What if it was his friend and companion? He had to help her.

"I'm sorry," he crouched down beside her, putting his arm about her. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She kept sobbing and sobbing.

"Please stop it…" He whispered.

She turned and looked up at him, but he saw that her tears were red, red and thick. Like blood.

He pulled back. "What is happening here?" He asked. "What is going on?"

"I'm sorry James," she said. "I get so lonely." He saw her face was covered in blood. "You did this to me, please, comfort me."

He wanted to, he really wanted to, but there was something wrong here.

"Jamsie-girl" the walls whispered, "failure," "nothing…"

He pushed her aside. "I'm sorry Jess, but I have to catch the rainbow."

He turned his gaze back to the myriad of colours and began walking.

He did not look back.

Something fell in beside him, striding, something large and striped. He barely gave it a glance, but let one hand dangle, resting on the Growlithe's back.

"Chasing the rainbow together, ey Growly?" He asked.

And then he remembered something. The girl, the finned girl, she had said something about chasing the rainbow, when he had saved her.

Was he, now, chasing the rainbow?

Suddenly the Growlithe rushed forward and sprang into the colours, a spectrum of light shot out, raining around him like a flurry of multi-hued spears. And then there was light, bright seering light and a feeling.

A gentle whisper of a touch against his lips. 

His eyes shot open, staring at whiteness.

A voice came from around him. "I told you it would work Buttons! Isn't that one for the, you know, books."

And then there was life.

* * *

The dark shape perched on the gate post like some sort of obscene crow, overseeing the battle field. Azrael watched, and waited. He was a hunter, a born observer. He was waiting for the time to strike. It was nightfall, approaching dawn and he was wondering if his new target was about. From what he had gathered, she could be anywhere in this rather large garden, but he suspected she was in the house. From here he could see most of the grounds and there seemed to be a large amount of Pokemon about, too many to warrant an attack. He was not suicidal. Besides, he was here only for Brooke. He had nothing against the people that ran this place, although he had heard a little about them. The woman had a rare Pokemon (well, once, now she had many), so had been the target for Team Rocket for a while. She was now married to a young man whom Azrael understood had deserted Team Rocket a long time ago. Therefore he was also technically a traitor and the assassin would kill him if he got the chance. But he was not about to go out of his way to do so, it was too dangerous and his target was Brooke.

He cursed the man, James, that he had attacked earlier this night. Certainly, James had given him the information he needed but he wanted to know the man was dead. And he hadn't been sure. The people downstairs had become aware of the event and prevented him giving the poor soul a proper farewell. Azrael put a lot of value into giving proper goodbyes to those he had slain. But no matter.

He had a job to do.

And he would do it well.

Stripping off his cloak and clothing he transformed into a Burakki. Although true Pokemon could sense immediately that he was not one of them, at least this form gave him a slight advantage. He hid his clothing behind a rosemary bush and stole across the field. A small group of nidoran, out grazing in the early dawn, scurried away as he approached them. They could sense there was something wrong about him, something dark. He made his way across to the lake, where he picked up the scent of a Vaporeon-morph, slightly fishy, smelling of salt and wet fur. She had been here, but where was she now? The scent of an Eevee, a true Eevee, mingled in with it and that of a woman, human, whom Azrael took to be Kataryna, proprietor of the sanctuary. 

What are you doing here? A voice demanded and Azrael whirled to find himself nose to nose with a large Growlithe.

Nothing, he replied, taking a step back, closer to the water. He had no love of Fire Pokemon, being a Darkness type himself. Of course, he had skills this Growlithe was sure not to realise.

The dog snarled. Intruder! And flamed at him. Azrael threw himself back into the water at the last minute, the resulting splash showering the poor Puppy Pokemon. The Growlithe whimpered and fell back, wounded by the water.

And Azrael struck. He may not have his weapon, he may not have his humanoid form, but he did have something. Surprise and power.

He was large for a Burakki and sent the Growlithe sprawling, straddling the fire puppy. The light seared his legs and claws, but he ignored that, pain was nothing to one such as himself, it merely made him stronger.

Now, he demanded, my purpose here is very minor and I am sure you do not wish to be inconvenienced further, so kindly, tell me where the Vaporeon girl is!

The puppy whimpered. Azrael dug his claws in.

I will not betray my master! It whimpered in pain.

Then, prepare for what comes, Azrael struck it with the power of darkness, the power of shadow and watched as the puppy drew back, overwhelmed by its own dark emotions and past sorrows.

She's in the barn, it whimpered, under the terrible assault.

Thank you kindly, Azrael clambered off the terrified creature and strode boldly away, at least he would not have to venture into the house, barns were so much easier to enter…

She was not here. Her scent clung to the floor, the walls, to the pile of bedding lying in a bed of hay, but the area was somewhat lacking in the way of Vaporeon-morphs. He had transformed to enter the barn, still unclad, hoping to rely on his nature talents more than his knife skills to make the final kill, and now he flung the bedclothes about in a rage, searching desperately for any clue as to where she'd gone.

"Charrr!" Something snarled at him from the corner and he turned to glare at it. The Charmeleon dropped low, nervous, under the power of his violet eyes. It sensed the fire there, the rage.

"Do you know where she is?" He asked it.

"Charrr charr cha!"

"What's it to me? Worth more to you if I know it then if you hide it from me, right? I really think it would be best if you share."

"Charrr!"

Because he was annoyed and because the fight with the Growlithe had stirred the rage in him, Azrael unleashed some of that Dark Power at the Charmeleon. He wouldn't do such a thing normally, but he was highly stressed at present.

The poor fire lizard was pushed back by the dark psychic blast and writhed, screaming in agony for a few seconds, before recovering enough to crouch there and stare up at him.

"Not very pleasant, and there'll be more of the same, should you upset me further."

At that moment his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of footsteps and he hastily shape-shifted.

The Charmeleon's eyes bulged with surprise and fear.

If it could not help him, maybe the person arriving would. The door, which he had carefully closed, swung open.

"Brooke, are you awake?" A voice called tentatively and Azrael could see the early morning light highlighting the young female that stood there. Her gaze alighted on the devastated bed and she rushed forward, turning a baleful eye to the Charmeleon, who still crouched in the cage, whimpering somewhat. "What happened to her? What happened to you?"

Azrael took advantage of the distraction to sneak out, using the power of darkness to disguise himself. The sunlight hurt his sensitive Burakki eyes, but it was early morning and he could cope with that much sun. It looked like another plan was required.

*

The disheveled Pookamon walked up to the door. His clothing was tattered, hanging loosely about his thin, but muscular body. His black hair hung in greasy chunks, framing a vulpine face with dark fur and lost violet eyes. He knocked heavily on the door and had it answered by a young man, with curly brown hair. The young man frowned at him.

"We had no word of your coming?" He said.

The morph staggered heavily. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice dripping wearily, "but I have come a long way to find you. I have terrible news for you."

"What is it?" The man seemed not to trust him. 

"Your friend, James, is dead."

A look of sorrow was quickly replaced by a mask of bland confusion. "I have no friend by that name," he said coldly.

"You do not, then perhaps I am mistaken." He could almost scent it. Somehow this man knew he was not here with good intentions. He would have to take extreme measures. "Farewell then," he said, striding away.

He walked through the gate, well aware that the man would be watching him. His stealth skills were weak during the day, the sunlight drained him. Once outside, he moved along the fence until he could see the roof of the barn, and then he carefully and cautiously, climbed up and onto it, avoiding the barbed wire that framed the top. His violet eyes picked out the shape of a woman, attending to something beside the water's edge. As silently as a shadow, the assassin dropped over the wall. He was much less successful during the light, but he had only a limited time to locate the Vaporeon morph in – if she reached the Haven, he would be unable to follow. They would not permit him there, he would be killed on sight and they would know him for what he was – an assassin for the greater evil. 

He approached the woman, carefully stepping on twigs so as to make a noise and alert her. She whirled around.

"Hello?" She seemed warmer then her husband, at any rate.

"I went to the house but noone answered," Azrael stuttered, trying to sound as pathetic as he currently looked, "so I thought I'd better come here."

"You poor thing," she replied, "you look like you need a good hot meal and a bath." She placed the young Vaporeon pup she had been holding on the ground and slithered into the water. The Burakki-morph tried not to watch it, it brought back memories of his long dead Vaporeon friend.

"That would be fine," he said, smiling slightly. "But I am afraid I bring tiding of bad news."

She looked concerned. "What kind of bad news?" 

"Your friend, James, is dead," he repeated to her.

The look of sorrow on her face was neither brushed away nor disguised. "How?"

"I, I don't know," Azrael replied, "he met with me earlier that night, yesterday and described to me passage to your sanctuary, I did not leave straight away, I had some affairs to sort out and when I returned to his apartment to thank him and clarify instructions, I found the place surrounded by the ambulance and police." He paused, and gulped, as though he too were greatly saddened at the turn of affairs, "and when I inquired I found he had fallen down the stairs, after someone had broken into his apartment. I think he was running from them and slipped." He feigned wiping away a tear. It was not that he felt no sorrow or regret about James's death, no more than he felt sorrow every time he assassinated anyone. What he regretted most was that he hadn't got to say a prayer over the corpse. Now James's soul would be tormented forever.

The woman seemed greatly affected and wiped away her tears. He wondered how well she had known the Team Rocket deserter. Probably quite well, judging by her reaction. He felt a momentary pang of regret. She was innocent and he had hurt her, by doing his job.

But she was also married to a deserter, had probably lured him into deserting.

That could not be forgiven and was justification enough for what he was about to do.

He cowered a bit, trying to shade himself from the sun's evil eye.

"I'm so sorry," she said, immediately realising his discomfit. "I forget myself. Please, come with me and we can mourn James properly after a good meal. My name is Kataryna, by the way."

And she led him towards the house, he followed passively, like the refugee he supposedly was.

*

"What are you doing with him?" Was the warm greeting received from the man, whom Azrael assumed was Kameron.

"He needs help," the woman explained. "And he brings news of a friend."

"He is not our friend," Kameron stated, narrowing his eyes at Azrael. "Step away from him now!"

But Azrael was too fast for them. He had been prepared for this and had made sure he was walking at just the right angle to grab Kataryna should he be exposed by her unusually empathic husband. His knife slid from his sleeve and into his hand and he seized Kataryna, clasping her close to his muscular chest. His Pokemon skills may be limited by the light, but his knife would still have the desired effect.

Kameron, about to jump at him, suddenly recoiled back at the sight of the shiny blade pressed against his beloved's throat. "No!" He shouted.

Azrael grinned, flashing his teeth, "oh yes," he said, malevolently. "I do not wish to hurt her, but I shall, if your cooperation is not insued."

Kataryna was too startled to react. She simply stood there, held in the assassin's strong grasp, the blade prickling her throat.

"You killed James," the man stated, "why should I have your word on anything?"

"I never killed the man," the Burakki assassin replied truthfully. "He had a little … accident. But I shall kill her, if you do not tell me what I wish to hear."

"And if I do tell you?" Kameron was sharp, he was determined to get Azrael's word first.

"Then I shall release her," he replied, truthfully. Brooke was his true target and although his Boss would not disapprove of him killing these two upstarts, Azrael himself would. He did not like killing innocents, it made him too much like a common murderer.

And Azrael was anything but common.

"Then I shall tell you. What is it you wish to know?"

"Simply," he said, allowing himself a small smile, "the presence of a certain one of my kin, a woman going by the name of Brooke, a Vaporeon-morph. And before you lie to me, remember where I have the knife."

"She's gone," Kataryna whispered from his grasp. "She was not there when I left this morning. I thought you had done her it."

A look of puzzlement crossed the Burakki's face. "I'm sure I would remember," he said. "Well, no matter," and he was sure they were telling the truth, "then tell me where she has gone and I shall leave you in peace."

Kameron answered this one, despite the scowl on his wife's face. "A gym, north-east, in a place known as Sereniti. But you have to cross the mountains first."

"Then that I shall do," Azrael stated. "Now, I shall bid you both adieu." He then struck them both with the shadow mist – since it was the only way to fully assure he got away unfollowed. Kameron wheeled back at the force of all his worse memories being dumped into his consciouness at once. Kataryna sagged against him. He pushed her into Kameron and ran. The assault was weaker, due to the sunlight, but it made no difference. Before they noticed he was off and away.

To Sereniti it was then.

__

* * *

"I awoke the sleeping Beauty with a kiss," Brooke stated to her friend.

"Eevee," the Eevee shrugged. "Ee vee vee."

James stared at them, his head was filled with shadows and darkness but he was aware of something. "I'm not dead," he whispered.

Brooke pondered this statement for a while, then picked up his hand, squeezed it, and he, relishing the fact that he was still alive, squeezed back, tightly.

"Usually dead do not get up to much," Brooke said with a smile. The Eevee jumped on his chest, causing him to wince in agony. Brooke quickly scooped her up. "You not hurt Mr James-man," she said.

James winced and smiled. "Somebody did," he whispered, "and he's after you, Brooke."

"Why would anyone be after me? I just want to dance and play and sing and things. Why would some nasty-bad-person want to hurt me?"

"Eevee?"

"Dark man, not human, beast, golden halo, burning twilight eyes," James whispered. "He came to me, asked me where you were, threatened me and I had to tell him, then he tried to kill me anyway."

"That not good," Brooke said. "Perhaps you should have shown him the rainbow."

"I would have liked to," James replied, remembering how he had found Brooke, bleeding to death and she had said she was chasing the rainbow. Now he had almost caught it. But what had brought him back? Surely not the kiss. The girl's mannerisms were cute but she seemed lacking of sense and was also a Pookamon, not his type at all. Perhaps it was something else… although at present, he was somewhat distracted by the fact that Brooke was not wearing anything. He gulped and answered her. "I ran," he added ruefully, "and kind of tumbled. That's all I remember."

Brooke walked around the bed, almost skipping. "But you're all right now?" She said, almost as a question. "And the sun will wash away the rain."

"Ee vee vee?"

Brooke scowled at her Eevee. "I came to help you I did, with nothing but Buttons and Cassandra to help me!" She beamed at him. And then there was a lengthy pause. "Cassandra! Where's Cassandra?"

"Ee vee vee?"

"Who's Cassandra?" James asked thoroughly confused.

But Brooke was too puzzled to answer. "You stay right there," she said, patting James on the knee and ran out the door, Buttons on her tail.

James rolled his eyes and sighed. His entire body ached, he'd cracked his ribs and broken his arm (when he tried to catch himself), but otherwise was not too badly off, all things considered. 

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, white and sterile, and reflected. How had Brooke known to come back? She should have been at Sereniti by now. Why had her touch brought him back from that dark place? Why had he gone to that dark place?

And why was Team Rocket sending an assassin after her?

*

"Have you seen my friend?" Brooke asked the lady at the desk. She had obviously forgotten the earlier encounter. "She's about this tall, and you know, covered in plates. Or perhaps she's this tall," she held her hand up a lot higher, "I can't quite remember, but she's certainly some sort of height between here and here."

The receptionist scowled at her. "How did vermin like you get in here?" She growled, "and why hasn't security thrown you out? And why aren't you wearing any clothes? Security!"

"Never mind," Brooke replied, "I'm sure I can find my own way out." She scooped up Buttons and skipped out the door. Now, where would one take a Sandshrew? Or a girl? Brooke wasn't made for this thinking business. Maybe she could find a charm that would do it.

"Buttons, can you find me a device-for-finding-lost-things?" She asked, placing the Eevee on the ground.

Buttons looked at her in puzzlement, then trotted a few feet and picked up something in her mouth, bringing it back to the Vaporeon-morph.

"That's no good," Brooke said, turning it over in her hands, "this is a device-for-finding-forgotten-gods, we need something to find Cassandy!"

"Eevee…" Buttons sighed and wandered off to pick up something else.

"Never mind," Brooke replied, "I'd probably just find my past anyway, let's go to the last place one would look for lost Pokemon. She's bound to be there…" And Brooke took of down the road quite swiftly, Buttons struggling to catch up.

*

"I can't believe you got us lost!" Brooke scolded Buttons who tried to look innocent, and succeeded. "We'll never find Cassandy now… look what you've done!" She paused and sat down in the gutter. "Nothing ever works out," she said dismally, "its always blood and rain, darkness and pain. Hey, I rhymed!" Buttons crawled into her lap, confused but happy that her friend no longer seemed mad at her. She couldn't understand why Brooke had exploded at her, but knew it was just the girl's exasperation. It had been a hard day for the both of them. She nuzzled Brooke's face and realised that the girl was crying.

"Eevee," she said reassuringly.

"Thank you," Brooke replied, "but you deserve better than I can, you know, do for you, go on, find yourself a new home. With me you'll only get hurt like Mr Green-eyes."

"Eevee. VEE!" Suddenly the Eevee shrieked and tensed, there were people standing around her.

"Well, my my, if it isn't a little freak out for a walk all by herself?" One said, he smiled grimly. 

"I ain't no freak!" Brooke said. "I'm the only free person you'll ever find."

"Oh, we weren't planning on paying," he replied sadonically. Someone behind her chuckled.

"Check out the tail on her!"

"Yes," Brooke whispered, "check out my tail!"

Suddenly one of the men sprang at her, a flick knife materialising in his hand. She was already sitting down, starting to stand, now he pushed her down with one hand, roughly. She fell on her bottom with a startled "vap!" of pain.

The man chuckled. The cold blade of the knife pressed against her throat. "Would the little fishy like to play?" He asked mockingly, straddling her. More men came up, one of each side and grabbed her wrists. The pain exploded up her arms in waves. She screamed and swung her tail around, knocking the man over. The others grabbed tighter, twisting her wrists painfully.

"If you want to do this the hard way, that'll be fine!" The man that had straddled her said, staggering to his feet. "Drag her into the alley, boys!"

The concrete cut into her legs and bare thighs. She bit her lip, tasting blood.

And then it happened.

Water exploded from the ground around her, pipelines from nearby buildings shattered, spraying high pressured water into the alleyway. And she transformed, once again becoming water and evaded their grasping hands. Once outside the alleyway she reformed and scooped up Buttons.

"I didn't want to hurt them," she said to her Eevee friend. "I really didn't. I don't like hurting people, it bad to cause pain. But I had to. They hurt me even badder."

"Eevee eve evveee!" Buttons said.

"Good point," Brooke replied, abruptly assuming Vaporeon form. I'm glad you've got the stuff in your head, the mushy stuff, cos all I've got is fog and mist and water.

Suddenly her sensitive Pokemon nostrils picked up something. Something reeks of reeking things and pain, she said. Pokemon in pain.

Maybe that's where Sandshrew-girl is, Buttons replied. Come on!

The two of them scampered through the streets and suddenly stopped short. A Growlithe was crouching back on its haunches snarling at a big man in fire-proof clothing holding a net. Obviously the net was also fire proof.

"Nice doggie," he said, "stay calm."

It's just a truck, Brooke muttered in disgust. An exciting bit of metal on wheels, it doesn't look like Cassandra. Or smell like Cassandra.

Buttons wasn't listening, she was streaking across the road, a little brown and gold streak. After a pause for reflection, Brooke bounded after her. The back doors of the van were open and the Eevee was nowhere in sight.

Oh, I see what the question is now, Brooke muttered to herself, we hide here, and you know, get taken to Cassandy. Good plan, glad I thought of it.

Get down! Buttons suddenly grabbed her about the tail dragging her into the shadow beneath the vehicle.

A short while later, and much cursing and swearing, another Pokemon was pushed in and thrown in a cage. The Growlithe. It was wearing a muzzle, tight about its jaws.

What are you in here for? Brooke asked it, trotting out to investigate, despite the fact that Buttons tried to drag her back using her teeth. Have you been a bad doggy? Or perhaps you're the cavalry like me!

The Growlithe mumbled something unintelligible in reply.

Suddenly the van started moving and Brooke toppled over with the movement. Sharp teeth closed about her tail and she was dragged backwards, into the shadows once more.

*

So this is the lost place, where forgotten things go, Brooke mused, trotting down the corridor in the Pound they had been taken to. The Growlithe had been removed, and the back doors left open, so the two companions had seen it simple to sneak out and into the corridor. The scents here were terrible. Fear, pain, death, a beautiful cornucopia of scents that made the Vaporeon nauseous. She didn't like it here, it was a bad place, a very, very bad place, filled with much badness. It brought back bad memories to her, memories of before, when the shape she was in now had been her only option. She had been in a place like this once, before she had turned the beautiful blue of the ocean, when she was nothing more than the fuzzy cuteness of an eevee. She had only fleeting memories of the time before she had Become. But she remembered an enclosure and cold and fear smell. And she remembered gentle hands, picking her up, patting her. Friendly hands.

This time there were no friendly hands, the place was cold and dark, even in these daylight hours. She whimpered.

Eevee stood on her hind legs, resting her forepaws against the door. From behind the door came the most terrible scents – pain, suffering, loneliness. And one other scent.

Sandshrew, with a touch of human.

Brooke instantly assumed her human form and stood before the door, gloriously skyclad and greenish-blue. She opened the door and Buttons bounded in.

"Evee vee eevee!" Buttons stood on her hindlegs, pointing her nose at a cage.

"Thank you my small but big-brained friend," Brooke said happily. "Now I've just kinda, got to open this door." 

Behind the bars Cassandra huddled, looking small and afraid and smelling of human. Or human derivative anyway. She slid back the bolt easily and swung the door open. Cassandra jumped out and into her arms, forming immediately into her proper form. The two girls embraced for a moment. 

"Eevee!" Buttons shrieked in alarm. Both of them suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway. 

"I don't think that pretty things will happen if we stay here!" Brooke said, sounding almost happy, "let's ride the lightning!"

Cassandra was confused but understood the sentiment. Grabbing Brooke's hand she fled across the room, flinging open the door just at the right time to hit the incoming security guard in the nose. He reeled back, clasping his face as blood trickled down around his hands. "What the?"

"Bye bye, Mr," Brooke called, "hope we didn't hurt you too badly there, but I guess the door didn't like you! Not one bit!" She sprayed water across the floor, so that as he began pursuit, he slipped and tumbled.

Following Buttons lead, they found themselves back in the garage. The doors were shut.

"Oh drat, see if you can find a button!" Cassandra said, without quite thinking it through.

Scooping up Buttons, Brooke grinned broadly, "will this do?"

"VEE!"

"A button to push! To open the doors!"

Setting the Eevee down, Brooke frowned. "Like this one you mean?" She reached out and pushed a switch. It was red and round. Immediately a siren started blaring. "Bad noise, nasty noise, gets in your ears, makes you want to bleed!" Brooke shrieked above the din, madly pushing buttons (not Buttons), but to no avail.

"Change form!" Cassandra grabbed her, changing form herself. Brooke, quick on the uptake today, also assumed animal form and the Sandshrew suddenly leapt at the wall, rolled into a hard little ball. Cassandra hit the wall with some force, ricochetting off it with the sound of crumbling massonry. She had sought a cracked patch in the brick wall, and hit it with all her force. Several blocks tumbled to dust and she squeezed through the hole, followed closely by Brooke and finally Buttons. A shout came behind them as the security guard, blood still trickling from his nostrils, lurched at the wall, hoping to grasp Buttons's tail. He was but a few seconds too slow and tumbled into the wall itself, screaming again as his face met brick a little too fast…

Once outside on the streets, the three Pokemon darted into an alleyway. There were no further sounds of pursuit. The Security guard had given it up as a bad job.

Resuming proper morph form, Brooke dusted pieces of brick from her dense teal fur.

"Wasn't that fun?" She sat cheerfully, "we'll have to do this again sometime!"

"Eevee…" Buttons sighed.

*

"I don't think its safe for you to go alone." James informed the Sandshrew-morph and the Vaporeon-morph. It had been almost a week since his accident and he was seated in a wheelchair in the gardens. The two girls had sneaked in to meet with him. It had been a week of worry for the young man, since this assassin was liable to be out there somewhere, watching and waiting, not to mention that he still was unclear on what had become of Kataryna and Kameron. The pain in his chest had subsided now, so that it did not hurt when he breathed, only when he laughed. Unfortunately, around Cassandra and Brooke, one laughed often.

"Life's not safe," Cassandra remarked. "It's a terrible, frightening thing, but we've learnt to survive."

"Yeah," Brooke said with a smile, "I've survived good, see, I'm alive!"

"I just meant that this assassin was after you, and he will be waiting for you, if not at CAIP, then at Sereniti, or perhaps even beyond. I don't know why he wants to see you dead, Brooke, but he wanted to see me dead too. I can just expect he works for Team Rocket."

Cassandra shuddered at the word. "I remember them," she said softly, "they were terrifying, horrifying. I hated working for them. But I also know this, when we escaped, they would be after us. The Boss does not take desertion lightly and will kill any who express their disloyalty."

James nodded, and glanced over to Brooke, who had Buttons seated on a park bench and was trying, with some success to put a daisy chain about her neck. Her innocent moved something in him. Why would someone want to kill someone so innocent, so childlike, it seemed worse then criminal, it seemed depraved. And Cassandra, well, the Sandshrew girl was shy, but she seemed to realise that Brooke was not always capable of doing all the thinking, that some concepts were beyond her grasp. Certainly, the Vaporeon-girl was not stupid, she had a hidden sharpness that revealed itself occasionally, as startling as finding a coin in your cereal. But Brooke, with all her childhood innocence and naivety, seemed uninterested in making plans. "I agree, which is why I am not going to let you walk to Sereniti – even now the beastman could be coming back in search of you."

"It's been over a week," Cassandra pointed out, "surely he has got bored and moved on. If he was going to find us, he would have already."

"I don't know," James said softly, "I really don't know what has become of him, but sooner or later, Team Rocket will investigate my "accident" and discover that it did not have the consequences already imagined."

"But couldn't we skip danger altogether by taking a different route to the Island Haven?" She asked, she wrung her hands nervously, something she had been doing all through the conversation. She was not, obviously, a talkative type normally, but had been forced into such a situation.

"We could," James replied, "but I worry for my friends' safety and would like to know that the assassin has not punished them the way he punished me."

*

"Stay still, girl," Brooke instructed the brown chihuahua-like Pokemon. Buttons kept squirming and the daisy chain snapped, tumbling to the ground. "Now look what you've done," the Vaporeon-girl said sadly, tears slipping to her eyes. "You broke my pretty necklace!"

"Eevee!" Buttons stated urgently, jumping off the park bench and running a few paces.

"Oh, you want to make it up to me by playing "chase-an-catch-the-eevee-cat"," Brooke seemed unimpressed. "Well, I no want to play that game cos you no wanna play my game!"

"Eevee vee!" Buttons glared at her and Brooke suddenly realised that this was not a game.

"What's wrong? Is someone after Mr Green Eyes?"

"Eevee vee veee!"

"We gotta help Mr Green Eyes, he not well, he not able to help himself. I think we'd better have a look!"

"Vee!" Suddenly the Eevee darted off.

Glancing back at her companions, and noting that they were still in heated discussion, Brooke took off after her. 

She found Buttons sitting with her paws pressed against the glass of the hospital front, which gave a rather nice view of the receptionist and a few people waiting for appointments, and slipped in beside her, assuming Vaporeon form, because such was safer.

Brooke had not lived this long without knowing a little about safety.

Talking to the receptionist was a tall, copper-blond man wearing black. Beside him stood a delicate woman, whose hair was slightly more orange. He looked like a rugby player, she looked like a cheerleader. They appeared to be having an argument with the lady.

That lady is a bad lady! Brooke insisted, she not let me go see James. You think those people go to see James? They seemed oddly familiar to her, but she couldn't quite remember… She grasped at her memories with long teal fingers, but they fleeted away like mist.

She wished she could remember, it seemed important that she remember these people.

I think I've seen them before, Buttons whispered. They bad people, work with other bad people.

Brooke pressed her ear against the glass, but she couldn't hear anything more than a low hum of conversation, even with her strong hearing. This situation warrants further investigation, she said to Buttons, and stole along the window to the main door. Buttons trailed after her.

Take care, she said softly.

The door opened electronically as the Vaporeon approached it, and she trotted in, immediately hiding beneath a bench. Nobody had noticed her, not yet anyway. She could dimly hear what the people were discussing, although it all sounded foreign to her Pokemon senses. She did manage to gain one item of information however.

They wanted to speak to James.

Her large eyes twitched anxiously. If they wanted to speak to Mr Green Eyes, they wanted to do bad things to him, she could smell it, she could sense it! And she did not want bad things being done to her friend. She darted out through the door, knowing that she must alert James to the impending doom. The heads turned as the doors "pinged" open again.

"What's that?" One cried. 

"That's a Vaporeon!" The woman replied. "There's something unusual here." She turned to look at the receptionist. "Excuse me, madam." And grabbing her companion by the sleeve, she ran out after Brooke. Brooke ducked through the hedge and bounded towards her companions.

*

"I recommend we hire a van or similar vehicle and drive to Sereniti," James said, mulling the thoughts in his head. He was not in great condition, but he was sure he could manage to drive, provided the vehicle had automatic steering. Certainly Cassandra and Brooke would not be able to drive, although he was sure Brooke would be more than willing to try.

At the thought of Brooke, he glanced over at where she had been, wondering why things had been so quiet there. He quickly realised why. She had vanished.

"Cassandra!" He shouted, "Brooke's gone, we have to find her!"

At that moment, the Vaporeon sprang through the bushes, running across the lawn and barrelled into his lap.

"Vap, vap poreon on!" She shrieked. In her excited state she had obviously forgotten to transform.

"It might help if you're in human form," Cassandra said softly.

"Oh yeah, right," Brooke immediately transformed so that she was now sitting naked in James's lap. She appeared completely unembarrassed about this fact. "Some not so nice people are coming over here to greet you warmly or perhaps very coldly, James," she said. "I don't think there intentions are as pure as driven snow, somehow."

"Eevee," Buttons agreed. From behind the hedge came cursing as the two of them tried to make their way through, after the Vaporeon.

"Get off him!" Cassandra snapped, "we have to get him, and us, out of here now!"

Brooke rolled off James's lap and landed neatly on her feet. "Well then, let the party begin!"

Buttons leapt onto James's lap and Brooke began pushing the wheelchair away from the hedge. Just at that moment the two humans burst through. They were wearing black – black jackets and black pants. The man's jacket hung slightly open with the movement so that the "R" was slightly revealed.

James recognised them immediately, the two were old enemies, despite being on the same team. Only versus these two had James and his companion Jessie, been convinced to do good deeds.

"Well, hello there James," the man announced in that voice that grated on his nerves so much. James cringed.

"What do you want with me, Butch?"

Cassidy's hand slipped to her belt. "We come to bring you your doom!" She said with a smile. "Giovanni didn't believe his assassin, and so sent us to check it out." Suddenly she was holding a gun, and James was staring at the barrel.

"Move!" He shouted as the two girls exploded into action. Cassandra started running, pushing the wheelchair and Brooke, brave, foolish Brooke, ran directly towards Butch and Cassidy. "Run!" He shouted, but she paid him no heed.

The chair caught on a slight slope and started rolling extremely fast. A bullet shot rang out, and then the sound of screaming and what would best be described as a geyser. Buttons, crouching low on his lap, fluffed up her fur and tried to crawl up his chest without falling off.

"Eevee…" she whispered, sounding most concerned.

"I know," James whispered to her, tears forming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of Brooke being shot. She had come back because she knew he had been hurt. She had tried to save him and he could do not the same for her.

Suddenly he saw a vehicle parked before them, a big white van. Although stealing such a vehicle was rather obvious to say the least, it was all he could think of.

Perhaps Brooke's only salvation.

"You've got to get me to that vehicle!" He shouted trying to turn the wheelchair and almost wrenching it out of the Sandshrew-morphs grasp. She let out a startled yell. 

"We can't steal that!"

"We can and we will!" Besides, he was desperately worried that they might need some of its equipment later. 

As the wheelchair neared the vehicle, he slammed on the brakes to stop the helter skelter motion and then barely caught himself as it tried to dump him onto the tarmac.

"Is it locked?" He asked Cassandra, who was already around the wheelchair and up by the door. She tried the handle and found that it worked.

"Nope," she peered inside, "and there's keys too! Come on, we've got to hurry!"

He glanced back at the hill and saw Butch running towards them, whilst Cassidy rolled across the grass, fighting viciously with Brooke. Another gunshot rang out and James knew they didn't have much time. He reached out and half leaning on Cassandra, managed to ease himself into the driver's seat. Buttons jumped in after him, and into the back. The Sandshrew-morph then sprinted around the other side, jumping in just as the vehicle took off up the hill.

*

They could not hurt her friends! Noone could hurt her Mr Green-eyes and get away with it! She turned as the wheelchair made its daring escape and faced the woman.

"Leave Mr Green-eyes alone!" She said, sourly.

"Or what, or you'll bitch-slap me?" Cassidy laughed, "I don't think so, girl!" She brought the gun up to a point right between Brooke's eyes, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet shot through nothingness and suddenly a Vaporeon, that she was sure had not been there a minute ago and could not have possibly moved so fast, barrelled into her chest, sending her sprawling. Beneath Butch a deeply buried water pipe suddenly gave into the strain of the ages and a fountain of water geysered up from beneath his feet, sending his some feet into the ground before dropping him onto the grass. Brooke clawed and snapped at her advesary, who continued to fumble with the gun, trying to shot a target that she could only see half the time! Another bullet grazed a little too close to Brooke's side, and she felt the sting of blood. 

"Va POR!" She screamed, and another waterpipe, or perhaps the same one, burst beneath Cassidy, sending her upwards atop a spiral of water. She screamed, and dropped to the ground several metres away, clutching her wrist and trying to line up the gun barrel at the same time, which was no mean feat.

Suddenly the sound of a siren wailing filled the air, and both of them turned around to see an ambulance heading directly towards them! Brooke immediately resumed humanoid form (her hearing in Vaporeon form was extremely sensitive) and covered her ears with her hands.

"Awlful loud wailing of banshees!" She shrieked above the din. "They come to carry me away from this foul place!"

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the sirens still blaring. "Jump in!" Cassandra shouted, opening the passenger's door. 

"How do you turn these damned things off!" Came James's voice.

Brooke didn't need any more persuasion, she leapt into the cab, almost knocking Cassandra over into James and dragged herself over the back of the seat and into the medic bay. Cassandra slammed the door shut, just as Cassidy let lose with a bullet that misfired badly but almost managed to tear the door from its hinges. Another shot rang out as the glass on the back doors shattered.

"Are we all in?" James shouted, sounding almost gleeful, "hold on tight!"

His foot slammed down against the accelerator and the ambulance lunged into life, tearing out a large chunk of sodden ground and skidding somewhat as the injured man attempted to execute a u-turn on the lawn. Butch threw himself aside, firing off another couple of shots as the ambulance almost ran him down.

The call of more sirens added to the cacophany. White and black cars pulled up in the ambulance bay and out of them stepped a woman with a megaphone. "All of you put your weapons down and your hands where I can see them!" She shouted through the loudspeaker.

James swung on the wheel, pulling the ambulance around a sharp corner, narrowly avoiding a police car and a wall. More gunshots fired, this time from the police themselves and one of the back tyres exploded, sending the van into a spin.

"Wo hooo!" Brooke shouted from the back of the van as she slid into a stretcher and a first-aid kit of bandages tumbled down to cover her.

"Eeveee!" Buttons shrieked in fear.

Somehow James managed to regain control of the car, punctured tyre and all and drove it through a plot of trees and into someone's back fence.

Perhaps regain was the wrong word here.

"Everybody get out!" He shouted, as the sounds of a Police car pursuit reached their ears.

Cassandra opened her side door, jumping out and Brooke clambered over the back of the seat, sliding out beside her.

Much to the policeman's surprise, a drainage pipe, dripping into a tiny creek, suddenly released an explosion of mist vapor, which clung to the windscreen and made him swerve for control.

Brooke smiled slyly to herself and ran around the ambulance to help unload James. With his arms across the back of the two they helped him away from the scene, Buttons trotted along behind, shaken but apparently amused.

*

"We need another car," James informed them a short stretch of time later.

"You're telling me!" Cassandra panted, "you like weigh a ton!"

"Mr Green Eyes does not weigh a ton," she pondered this for a moment. "What's a ton?"

"Eevee vee." Buttons rolled her eyes.

They had somehow managed to make their way to a residential street, perhaps due to dumb luck, the police had not found them yet and all seemed quiet.

"I learnt something from working for Team Rocket," James replied softly, "can you help me to that beaten up white car?" It was not the nicest, nor the flashiest car, but it would do, it was definitely the sort that he should be able to start easily, keys or no keys.

The door was not even locked.

As they eased him into the driver's seat, the familiar pain came back, an explosion in his chest. And he saw the car was stick shift. Well, no matter. He would cope, he had to. "Girls, get in the back and stay small!" He instructed them. A Vaporeon-morph and a Sandshrew-morph were just too obvious and easily identified. Cassandra obeyed quickly, dragging Brooke into the back with her.

The car smelt awful – of fried foods, cat urine and something that didn't bear thinking about. Bending over to hotwire the vehicle was an agony, but he clenched his teeth to try and keep his companions from realising quite how painful it was. He was also becoming only too conscious that he was wearing nothing more than boxer shorts and a hospital gown, and the day was becoming uncomfortably cold.

Suddenly the engine rumbled into life, with enough noise to wake the dead. Clenching his teeth against the pain of broken ribs (although they were tightly bound) he steered the car out onto the road and across the street. The old man walking his Growlithe did not even give him a second glance.

Well, for better or for worse, they were on their way!

__

*

The bet up station wagon sped through the mountain pass. It was not the car they'd left in – James had picked this one up from a dealer in Ceruleon, using money borrowed from Kameron.

In the backseat, Cassandra lay curled up with Buttons, both of them asleep. In the front seat, Brooke watched what the driver and his technique with an unfaltering, unerring gaze.

"So you make it faster by pushing on that foot pedal," she stated, "and you slow it down by slamming the other foot down real hard on that one. I don't see what's so hard about that." She was wearing a long shirt with a couple of Nidorans drawn on it. She'd chosen it from Kataryna's wardrobe when the four of them had stopped by CAIP. James had been much relieved to see that they were unhurt, although shaken and they were likewise amazed to see him in more or less one piece.

"Don't you think it was odd how she said, 'you're alive!' to you?" Brooke asked, "I mean, what happens if you weren't alive, what happens if you were dead and just thought you were alive. Isn't that a bit, you know, stating the obvious?"

"I think she was just surprised to see me, that's all," James replied, figetting in his borrowed clothing. It appeared that Kameron was somewhat skinnier then he and to Brooke he looked as though he were trying to dance a jig in his clothing.

"I was surprised to see them too," she said, "I never expected they'd be where I left them."

James let that one lie, it was easier that way.

Snow spiralled down and bounced against the window, little flakes like the dandruff of the gods. That thought amused Brooke, as though gods would have dandruff. She idly stroked her tail. "Every little snowflake looks different from the others," she informed James, "or that's what they say, but, I mean, how do they know? I think there's a little pixie sitting up there in the clouds, busily taking pieces of cloud and making it into shapes. And every once in a while he, you know, gets a little bit clumsy and knocks his tray and they all fall down to the ground. They're pretty. I'd like to keep one." She grinned, then looked sad, "I had a pet snowflake once, but I forgot to feed it and when I came back it had run away, leaving nothing behind but a puddle. I guess I should have house trained it. Say, are we nearly there yet?"

The question startled the blue-haired man, he'd become drawn into Brooke's bizarre tale and to hear something so common place (And common sense) as "are we there yet" threw him. 

"Nearly," he replied, pointing to a sign. "See, that tells us how far we've got to go."

Brooke peered at the sign. "It's not saying anything," she replied.

"Oh, I forgot you can't read," he replied, "its about ten more minutes okay?"

"Yay, we're nearly there, and I can go and count the snowflakes and see if I can find one that looks like another one!"

"If you really want to," James replied, doubting she would have the patience, "but we're not going to be here long, just long enough to visit the Gym, grab some supplies, fill up the car and move on into the next town."

"Why do we want to fill up the car, and with what?"

"Petrol," he replied, half-expecting the question. "Cars get thirsty too you know!"

"I knew that!" She scolded him. "And why are we going to the gym? Are you going to win a badge, with us as your Pokemon?"

He laughed at the sheer thought. "No, the Sereniti Gym specialises in flying Pokemon, and none of you three would do very well there! I have to visit the Gym Leader."

"I'm good against birds," Brooke pouted, "I just spray a fountain and the bird becomes a wet chicken and plummets, wheeee!" She mimed with her hand.

"Are we there yet?" Came a weary mumble from the back seat.

"Where yet?" Brooke replied, then laughed at the rhyme. "We're nearly at Sereniti, and then we'll be serene."

Cassandra sat up and leaned on the back of the seat. Beside her Buttons mumbled and rolled over, dozing off again. "Do you think this assassin's there?" She asked.

"I wouldn't doubt it," James replied softly, "but he may have got bored and continued on to the next stage. I hope he hasn't hurt anyone…"

"Who is the Gym Leader at Sereniti?" Cassandra asked.

"A bird man!" Brooke replied.

"His name's Corvid," James informed her. "He's a strange man, rather," he paused, searching for the right word, "distant, you might say."

* * *

The hunter was bored. He had been waiting here a week already and was beginning to get decidedly worried. What happened if she did not turn up? What could possibly have delayed her so long? He moved around the small quarters, almost a hovel, really, his black cape dancing around him like it was alive. The little punk had told him that she had not been this way, that perhaps the snow had slowed her down. Could he be lying? Azrael did not think so. He was not an easy person to lie to, not at all. Even now the Gym Leader, what was his name? Raven, Crow? Something like that, lay bound and gagged in the basement. The Burakki did not want to hurt him, but it was all in his job, after all. He did not like causing unnecessary pain. Not to mention that the brat bugged him incessantly. All this black clothing and "oh my life is so terrible, how could death be worse" crap. What did he know? He was human, pure and simple, not some type of hybrid that was hated and feared.

If she did not come soon, he would have to return to CAIP, searching the entire way for her, and he would find her.

He always found what he sought.

He worried about Cat, not that he needed to, really, she was an alley cat when he found her, she knew how to look after herself.

Pacing around the room, he noticed that a few more people had entered the Gym complex, you'd think the snow would keep them away, I mean, really, coming all this way through biting snow just for a piece of metal. He peered closer and recognised them. Well, if it wasn't the walking dead himself and not one, but two, female companions of a distinctly bestial nature.

Finally, they had come to him. He had to prepare.

Hurrying from the room and down the stairs he entered the basement. The bird man leaned against the wall, hands bound securely behind him, dark hair hanging across his pale, almost feminine, face.

"Looks like you've got visitors, Crow-boy," he said softly. "Now I have a request for you. I want you to be really good, and I mean behave just like you normally would when you have visitors. If you, say for example, alert them to my presence, then I shall be forced to take extreme measures.

Remember your brother, Raven?"

The pale-skinned boy nodded.

"Very good, and if you do not want to remember him again, in horrendous, glorious detail, it would be much better if you were to behave yourself. Comprehende?"

He nodded again.

"Very well." Azrael bent down and untied his hands, removing the gag. "Now remember, don't alert them or you will remember!"

"Yes sir," he glanced at his feet.

"Very good, now hurry along, they're waiting for you!"

For Azrael, victory was within grasp and the end was in sight. All he had to do now was to get her alone, and once again, he would be true to his trade.

* * *

"Wow, check it out!" Brooke gaped open mouthed at the arena. Having parked outside, the four of them had marched through the double doors and entered what, to Brooke, was a wonderland.

The stadium resembled a scooped out basin, from which pinnacles of rock protruded, spiralling up into the heavens, well, maybe not quite that high, but due to the altitude, their tops were lost in mist. Snow dusted the arena floor – it was completely open-air.

"Not the kind of Gym I would like to fight in," Cassandra muttered, for she being a ground type would have difficulty with the snow and the aerial requirements.

"Luckily we don't have to fight then," James said, trying to sound cheerful, taking both of the girls by their hands. Buttons trailed along behind, looking left out a little.

"Look!" Brooke exclaimed, almost girlishly – "it's a ladder!" She pointed to the ladder set in the side of the rock, "I could climb it and put my head in the clouds."

"Perhaps you'd see your cloud Pixie," James remarked.

Brooke stared at him as if he were mad. "Don't be silly," she said, "Pixies don't live in the clouds!" She dropped his hand and skipped over to investigate, her voice ringing clearly back at them, "it's the imps what live up there!"

She reached the ladder and put her hands on the rungs. They were cold, the chill biting into her hands, searing her flesh.

"Hail!" Came a voice and she turned around, startled to find herself staring at a young man. He looked half dead – his skin was a pallid white, like the snow itself and his hair so black it only added to the sickly appearance. His eyes were green, as green as James's, only there was something more in them, a sort of weary fear. About his shoulders hung a cape, limp and lifeless, like his appearance.

"You don't look none to healthy," Brooke said, smiling at him cautiously. "You need some sunlight and maybe some good red meat."

"You are Brooke, yes?" He asked, his voice as dull and lifeless as he.

"How did you know that? Who told you?" Brooke was startled, unusually so. It was almost as though she could sense something was wrong with him.

"Kataryna called me earlier this week, said you would be in, but she did not mention your companions. I am Corvid Martenez, Leader of the Flying Gym."

"Hello then, Mr Corvid," Brooke said, sounding formal for her.

"I believe we've met before," James added, stepping forward to take Brooke's hand in his. Brooke noticed that he seemed ill at ease around this pale and strange individual.

"Well, if you come with me, I shall show you your quarters." Corvid's voice seemed to tremble ever so slightly, so that it was barely noticeable.

James however, was somewhat more observant then made out to be. "Is something wrong?" He asked. "We don't come to stay, merely to find out if you are well."

"I am fine," he said, sounding slightly stilted. "But if you do not come to stay, please, at least enjoy a cup of coffee with me." His voice wavered as though he were afraid.

But what could he be afraid of? Was he afraid they would not stay and accept his hospitality?

Brooke did not like displeasing people.

"Certainly we shall drink with you sir!" She replied brightly, without giving James the chance to disagree.

The relief on the pale man's face was evident. "I shall realish your company."

"Corvid?" James queried, "is something wrong?"

"No, no," he relied, a little _too_ quickly. "Everything is fine, just fine, I just so rarely get visitors at this time of year."

"Very well then."

Across the mountains, the sun began to set.

*

"You really shouldn't drive through the night," Corvid cautioned them. The kitchen was spotless, everything neatly put away, which surprised Brooke. Given the house itself, she had expected it to look as though someone had released a whirlwind in there and let it do its business. Brooke was more observant then she made out to be. 

She sipped the coffee and immediately pulled a face. "This stuff tastes urgh!" She muttered and then glanced apologetically at Corvid, "sorry sir, but it does!"

"I agree," he replied, "it is coffee, after all. So why were you checking to see if I was fine?" He leaned on the table and stared at James. Brooke found her eyes drawn to her wrists, which seemed to be braceleted in dark bruises, purple against his white skin. He saw her attention and immediately drew his sleeve over them, smiling at her innocently. 

"There was an attempt made on my life," James replied, "and on Kataryna's. It seems someone is after Pookamon and therefore after us. I was hoping he had not become aware of your involvement in the Freedom Trail."

Corvid stretched back, "noone has come this way," he said loudly, and then leaned forward, whispering hoarsely. "Please, help me, get me out of here, he's here and he's watching us!"

"I told you not to say anything!" Came a voice from the shadows and out stepped a man, a tall, imposing man. His skin glowed ebony, aside from golden circlets on his forehead, about his fine plume of a tail and his long pointed ears. His muscles rippled.

A cape hung loosely about his shoulders, rippling as though it were alive and he wore close fitting black clothing, which would of blended in with his fur if it were not for the voluptuous sleeves.

"Well, Raven-boy, it seems you have failed me," he said, casually rising one hand. The golden halo between his eyes flared for a brief moment and dark shadows rippled out from his palm. They flowed towards Corvid and encircled him.

"NO!" Screamed the young man, clutching his head. He fell from his chair, his coffee mug clattering to the floor, staining it with coffee.

"Run girls!" James yelled, staggering to his feet. He had recovered somewhat from his accident, but not enough.

The assassin sprang onto the table, his swinging tail sending James tumbling over. Brooke's heart twisted as she heard her Mr Green-eyes gasp in pain. And then she and Cassandra reacted. The Sandshrew morph leapt at him, swinging her tail about and Brooke sent a spray of water from her mouth.

And the Burakki vanished.

Cassandra screamed as the water hit her instead, bowling her off the table and onto the floor where she lay whimpering in pain and trying to get up.

And suddenly Brooke felt a heat in her ear and hands about her throat. There was a barely audible "schlink" as the assassin slid a dagger from a wrist brace and into his hand.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do this the old fashioned way," he said, and his voice was soft, almost lilting.

And as calm as time itself.

"Not if I can help it!" Brooke swung her tail about, slashing him across the back, although her blow caught mainly his cape. Then she ducked as Buttons came flying across the table, colliding with his forehead. He staggered back.

The Vaporeon-girl struggled free and ran to help James.

"No!" His voice was hoarse with pain. "It's you he wants, run, run girl run!"

Brooke heeded the urgency in his voice. She bolted for the door.

Behind her, the assassin struggled to get the Eevee off him, as it bit and clawed. 

Slamming the door behind her, Brooke stared frantically around the arena. There seemed to be only two places to go, and only one of them where he might not find her.

Up.

Approaching the nearest ladder, she braved the chill and began clambering up the rungs.

She was about half-way up, almost into the cloud layer, when she heard the door open.

She clambered faster, the chill stinging her hands but not as badly as the pain that stung her heart. Mr Green-eyes was hurt.

Cassandra was hurt.

Poor Mr Corvid and Buttons could be hurt.

And it was her fault. It was she he wanted. He he had hurt the others whilst they tried to help her.

It was all her fault.

Cloud enclosed her now, a comforting whiteness that bit through her thin clothing and into her dense fur. She did not feel the cold that badly.

Nothing but silence.

She reached the top, clambering through the cloud and stood atop a wide platform. She could see nothing around her but more cloud, at her feet like a floor that she could walk on. 

And other platforms, perhaps ten feet away, further then she could jump.

For a moment she wondered if she would see any Pixies or imps, modelling snowflakes, but she was to be disappointed. And she had no escape. There was nowhere to run anymore.

She should have taken the gate.

Suddenly a movement caught her eye as the last rays of daylight reflected off the clouds.

A dark shape, standing astride a nearby platform, his hands on his shoulders.

His cloak flapping through the air like dark wings.

He smiled at her, or at least she fancied that he smiled.

"I never fail, Brooke," he said softly, yet the stillness, the chill, of the air carried it to her ears.

And he leapt into the air, and vanished.

Suddenly something barrelled into her with the speed of a freight train and she tumbled backwards, tumbling, careening through the clouds.

In a desperate, frightened attempt at survival, she closed her eyes tightly and used Hydropump.

Suddenly the clouds seemed to grow heavier, and plummeted earthwards, splashing so high that the tops of the platforms were doused. 

The snow that topped the high walls like cream on a cake likewise suddenly remembered its alternative identity and sprayed inwards.

It was almost enough.

The ground met Brooke's spine with a pain that jarred through her body and into the Burakki assassin that lay across her. Her body may have cushioned him, but it was exquisite pain never-the-less. Water sprayed around them, like a fountain and if any onlookers were to walk in now, it would look to them as if the two were lovers, surrounded by a fountain that reflected the dying sunlight in a spectrum of colours.

And to complete the appearance, Brooke's teal hands clasped the back of the assassin's head, threading their way into his thick mane of hair, drawing him closer to her.

And she kissed him.

* * *

The falling disturbed the assassin, tumbling through the air like a puppet. He grasped Brooke tightly, knowing that she would break his fall and the fall should break her spine. Through the pouring clouds they fell, hitting the ground with a splash that sent water cascading around them, as though it were illuminating them.

There was a strange beauty in life.

The pain jarred through his spine as surely it had through hers, but his sharp ears heard not the fatal "crack". The water had cushioned her fall. 

No matter, he had a job to do, and he had more tricks up his sleeve.

He called forth the darkness and the shadows, pushing them towards her fragile, wounded form.

She was beautiful in her vulnerability, like a butterfree that had lost its wings, a fallen angel. He reflected for a moment, soon she would be at peace, in a world where nothing could hurt her, where people like he did not exist.

There was a tenderness in death.

He brought down his arm, grimacing at the pain, his knife sliding into his palm as easily as if it were joined to him.

His cape fluttered about his shoulders, broken wings, broken dreams.

As he prepared to bring the knife around, to commit the killing blow, her hands, delicate and dainty, as blue-green as the ocean, came up behind his head, threading through his hair.

The ocean had her hidden depths, her hidden secrets.

Suddenly his face was pulled to hers, and her delicate, green lips met his dark one's in a kiss.

A kiss of tenderness.

And suddenly the darkness washed over him too…

__

A Burakki and a Vaporeon sat side by side upon a hillside, gazing across at the sun, shimmering through the water vapour.

The Vaporeon turned to face her companion. Have you ever wondered if, perhaps, one day, you might like to chase the rainbow? She asked.

No, he replied and smiled at her, my dreams have found me here.

*The rainbow flashed and things changed.*

__

The Vaporeon and Burakki again, walking side by side along the beach front.

I'll never leave you, my dark lover, she said.

*Flash*

__

"You cannot be together," the Master's voice. "You're my Burakki, my Pokemon."

No, it's all I've ever wanted.

"Well you can't have her!"

Strong hands grasping a Burakki, dragging him away from her, Ocean's beauty.

I'll never forget you, my deep-sea treasure.

*Flash*

__

A dark man, with the features of a Burakki, awoke upon a stretcher. A thin blanket covered his naked, humanoid body.

"My friend, the vaporeon," he pleaded, "where is she?"

"Where is she?" … "Where is she?"

"I'm afraid she did not survive the transformation."

"Did not survive." ... "transformation."

"She's dead."

"Dead." How could she be dead, he'd loved her more then life itself.

More even then the rainbow.

The kiss broke and Azrael drew back, his mind screaming. "You?" He whispered. "They lied to me! And now I have slain you!" Standing upright, he drew the cape around himself and fled into the shadows.

He could not cope with the pain. They had taken him from the only thing he had ever loved, the only person he had ever wanted to be with.

And then sent him to kill her.

He hated them.

He hated them all.

He especially hated himself.

The shadows were his comfort, the shadows his relief, but he knew he could not hide. He had to see if she might survive.

He had failed.

He had failed his Boss.

He had failed his Love.

He had failed himself.

The darkness would be his comfort, as it had been Corvid's.

* * *

The four of them stood on the dock, whilst beside them a Wartortle-morph readied a ship for sailing. The words on her side proclaimed; "Freedom." It had been an oddly uneventful month since the conflict in Sereniti, but now Brooke's spine had healed enough for travelling, and James's ribs were better. The Vaporeon-girl hugged the Eevee close to her.

"I'm finally going to be free!" She said, turning her oh-too-pretty smile at him. "And you and Cassandy can come too. It'll be great, it'll be happy! It'll be better then the rainbow!"

"Nothing could be better then the rainbow," James said with a smile, enfolding her and Buttons in his arms. "But I have bad news for you, my fishy friend." He had hated having to break the news to her, but he had made his decision, and he would stand by it.

"Really?" She said the concern evident in her voice. "What?"

"I shall not be going with you."

"But you're not safe here!" Cassandra exclaimed, "the assassin may have failed, but Team Rocket are relentless, they'll send others after you!"

He shook his head, and put his finger to Brooke's lips, cutting short her protestations at the least. 

"I must stay here," he replied, "for this is my place, and there are others like you, like Cassandra, even like the wretched assassin. They need help, and I can help them. I'm sorry."

He hated the sight of the tears springing to Brooke's eyes. Hated the pain in her fair face. 

Cassandra at least was more accepting.

"No, you can't leave us Mr Green-eyes!" The Vaporeon wept, "I, I don't want you to leave us, I want you to stay with us forever and ever and ever! You'll just get yourself hurt. Like he did." She smiled sadly and brought her reddened eyes up to meet James', which were none too dry themselves. "I loved him, I did," she said sadly, "once, a long, long time ago, almost as long as time, but not quite. The memory had run away, flitted like a Butterfree in the wind, but I caught it again and I showed it to him. I don't think he liked it much. I missed him," she continued, moving herself so close to James that she almost crushed poor Buttons. "I thought he'd gone to the world over the rainbow. But they had lied. I should've known they'd lied. They're just a bunch of lie-mongers!"

"I know," James replied, squeezing her gently.

"And now I'm going to lose you too. It's not fair!" She stepped back and stamped her foot on the ground. "Its not fair!"

Beneath the wharf a discharge pipe released a spray of water that bounced into the leg of the jetty and made it shake.

"I'm sorry," James said again, "but I have to help others. Even your Burakki friend," he paused, "especially your Burakki friend, I think he needs all the help he can get."

"You're right," Brooke agreed tearfully. "To just want to keep you to myself like a trinket is, you know, selfish, and I know you can help heaps of people. But I don't want any bad things to happen to you." Suddenly she paused and setting Buttons down, transformed into a Vaporeon.

James watched puzzled as the two of them had a conversation, whilst Cassandra watched with a knowing smile.

And then Brooke was back. She scooped up Buttons. "I think everyone needs a guardian Angel," she said, holding the Eevee out to him, under the little creature's armpits. "I asked her what she'd like to do and she thought it was like what I'd want to do, so, here she is." She stepped forward, setting Buttons carefully in James's arms.

The gratitude soared in his heart. She had given him her Eevee, her precious companion, well, not exactly given, since presumerably Buttons had agreed to it, but she was now his. He stroked the little Eevee.

"Eevee!" She said happily, and then turned her head to face Brooke. "Eevee vee vee," she added sadly.

"Bye, bye," Brooke waved, "she'll look after you." She stood on tiptoe to kiss James, a light peck on the lips and then kissed Buttons on the forehead. "She looked after me good."

"Thank you," James replied, although single words could not still the turbulance he felt in his soul. He would miss Brooke with her rainbows and her nicknames and her little pixies, or was it imps, in the clouds.

And he would miss Cassandra, with her silent grace, her intellectual input, her shy nature.

Suddenly he felt very sad.

"Goodbye girls," he said, as they boarded the boat. "I'll miss you."

"When you see a rainbow, remember!" Brooke added a little more brightly.

"Don't worry, I'll look after her," Cassandra added. "Look after yourself Mr Green-eyes!"

"EE VEE!"

He watched until the boat had gone from sight, towards the distant island, the distant haven, then hoisting Buttons into a comfortable position, he walked back along the beach, tears in his eyes, and pain in his soul.

He was not the only one watching the leaving. Not that far away, on a cliff overlooking the harbour, stood a tall black figure. He was hunched now, hunched with the weight of too many truths, of deceit, of the loss of the only things he had held dear.

His dark cheeks, black as sin, black as night, shone with tears, refracting a spectrum of colours.

And across the harbour, above an island so far that one could barely see it, a beautiful arch appeared across the sky, seeming to emerge from the clouds themselves.

The two onlookers saw the rainbow, and each smiled secretly, privately.

They would remember.


End file.
